


Amerika ist Wunderbar

by HammeredAlice



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Band Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:56:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HammeredAlice/pseuds/HammeredAlice
Summary: The band was infamous, really. They lit stages on fire, wrote songs about crude things and their music videos were said to be very naturalistic, some of them to the point of being banned in certain countries. Daiki had never been into such music. Everything changed once he heard Kagami Taiga play.





	1. Heirate Mich

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone :) First of all, this fic is going to contain pieces of songs and I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT OWN ANYTHING, EVERYTHING - the titles, the lyrics, the tunes - BELONGS TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS. With that off my chest, let's move on. The glorious idea of a fanboy Aomine came from @ghoulnoace, thank you so much for it T_T  
> The chapters are gonna be really short, sorry for that.
> 
> English isn't my first language, so pardon any possible mistakes.
> 
> The pieces of lyrics in this chapter were borrowed from Rammstein's Heirate Mich (Marry me).

  The band was infamous, really. They lit stages on fire, wrote songs about crude things and their music videos were said to be very naturalistic, some of them to the point of being banned in certain countries. People often called them radicals and the fact that they sang half of their songs in German didn't help a thing, actually, more like the opposite. 

  Daiki had never been into such music. When Kise materialized at his doorstep with the shabby looking tickets - the badly drawn splutters of blood offended his sense of design to no ends - he considered sending him to hell. Then again, they hardly hanged out these days and he still felt kinda guilty for not attending the blonde's birthday party, so eventually, he gave in. It was a mistake. "Yay, Aominecchi, Kasamatsu-san is the best guitarist ever, you'll see!" Huge mistake.

  The show took place at Makuhari Messe. Kise happened to know one of the members - he was babbling about the Kasamatsu guy since the moment they stepped out of Daiki's apartment - so they happened to stand few feet away from the fence that separated the stage itself from the audience. That should be a great thing, right? That's where you want to be when you go to a concert, yet the rumors of the band repeatedly setting the stage on fire were still stuck in his head and all the machinery piled behind the fence looked really formidable. Wait, was that a flamethrower? What the fuck?!

  This was a damn mistake, really. Maybe he should tell Kise that all the smoke made him dizzy or something, go home and take a nap. Yeah, that'd be nice.

  One look towards the exit and he knew it was impossible. Damn, half of the Tokyo had to be there! It seemed that he had no other choice but to let himself get burned by some shabby pyrotechnics. Awesome. If they at least stopped pumping the damn smoke into the hall, that would be great.

  "Seriously, Kise, this is annoying," Daiki blinked away the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes - fuck, the smoke stung - face settling into a deep scowl. He couldn't understand the blonde's reply because one of the band members finally decided to show up and the crowd went wild. Like, absolutely wild. Screaming, whistling, all that.

  "Shin-chan! Shin-chan! Shin-chan!" 

  The guy looked all but metal in the orange jumpsuit. Also, he obviously played.. a keyboard?! What's metal about keyboard? The tune he played sounded like a crappy horror movie soundtrack. That was the moment Daiki decided to take off his glasses - it wasn't like he was going to miss something important, anyway, and he wasn't that keen on getting them broken by some crazy fan.

  More and more people were pooling onto the stage - four, five, six. Yeah, he counted six, including the keyboard guy. Every time one of them joined, a booming applause rattled the whole hall and once the whole group assembled, a small firework went off. It caught him off-guard. He instinctively jumped away from the angry red sparks, cussing Kise's music taste to hell and back.

  These guys were really trying to be edgy as fuck.

  If French was the language of love, then German was the language of anger. It fit them perfectly, though. Daiki understood some German, well, only the basics since he quit college before he had the chance to learn anything useful, but Kise was more than happy to fill him in. "It's about marriage," he shouted, lips grazing Daiki's earlobe. The faint touch send sparks down his spine and he had to mentally cuss himself because this was fucking Kise and he didn't like Kise in that way at all! Eww. "His love died and he digs her out, but the corpse falls part. _Heirate mich_ means marry me." Wait, was it about fucking a corpse?! No? Whatever. He should be creeped out, but Kise's closeness was doing very good job distracting him from the hinted necrophilia. Damn, he needed to get laid.

  The music started picking up on tempo.

  "Wow, what a positive start." So, it seemed the rumors were true. Kise either chose to ignore his remark or he might actually miss it because of the guitar riff. 

  First word that came to his mind was _heavy_. Aggressive. Suffocating. It felt like a chokehold, like fingers clenched around his neck, holding him up while the low growl of guitar raked through his chest. Kise squeaked. Few feet away from them one of the guitarists did a gesture that made the crowd go even louder, if that was even possible at this point, but all he could see was a smudge of pale grey holding a red instrument - was this the mysterious Kasamatsu Kise wouldn't shut up about? And what was he doing with that hand?

  Eventually, Daiki asked. The question obviously seemed very funny to his friend. "No way, that's Kagamicchi! Kasamatsu-san is over there," he pointed towards the other end of the stage. Oh, it was just another grey smear. "You might actually see him if you put on your damn glasses! Seriously, Aominecchi, I though you'll have fun-"

  "Okay, okay! Shut up!" Maybe he should've been more considerate. Kise at least tried. The same couldn't be said for him.

  With the glasses back on his nose, the whole spectacle became even more bizarre. "So, which one is it?" He shouted against the music, but the answer was cut off by the inevitable refrain.

_Heirate mich._

  The words boomed through his rib cage.

_Heirate mich._

  His eyes were now firmly set on the guitarist closest to them. He was growling the words into a microphone standing close by, fingers sliding over the guitar strings almost lovingly while matted, grey hair fell into his eyes. They all shared the same, all-grey image and Daiki wondered why exactly. Which ill-minded stage designer decided that this was a good idea?

_Heirate mich._

  The whole spectacle was otherworldly. Did he somehow happened to die and wake up in hell? Kise caught his arm. He was pointing at the Kasamatsu guy, but Daiki hardly cared.

_Heirate mich._

  With the spell of the first refrain broken, he hoped to tear his eyes away from the guitarist. Needless to say, it was a vain hope. None of the guitars played through the second verse, but the guy held the pose anyway, chin lifted in somewhat challenging manner. Hell, he was looking down at the audience as if he owned them all. For a fleeting moment, Daiki was sure he was staring right at him, or more accurately, through him and – damn! – the intensity of the gaze made him feel weird things in his belly. 

  Putting the glasses back on was a rad idea.

  It couldn’t be even described as a music. It was a noise – a loud, brutal noise with unsettling lyrics – yet it was strangely addicting and soon, he found himself wrapped up in the spell too. People who said heavy metal wasn’t sexy had obviously never heard about that guy. The whole band was weirdly impressive, but this exact man's whole presence just chanted sex, in a disturbing I’ll-bend-you-over-and-fuck-you-into-the-next-month way. Maybe it was the way he held the guitar or perhaps the way his pants sat really low on his hips, Daiki didn’t know. Whatever it was, he was up for it, anytime of the day, really.

 _Heirate mich._ Oh man, no need to say twice.

  The hall was growing hotter and hotter with each passing minute. Songs changed, but all of them had the same powerful, heady sound. He must've inhaled too much smoke because it made him think of power play and bitemarks and all the stuff he really wasn't into - what the hell did the guy do to him?! Fireworks went off, sparks flew. Combined with the heat of so many bodies squeezed together, it made for one killer atmosphere. It was around the ninth or tenth song when his new favorite man decided to pour a half-full water bottle over his head and holy fuck, never in his life had Daiki been so disappointed when not catching an empty water bottle. The grey, muddy whatever that was slicked into his hair was slowly flowing down his temples, streaks of crimson now peeking there and there, sticking to his forehead.

  "See, I knew you'd like it!" Shouted Kise at some point. Daiki wondered whether he actually was enjoying the hatefuck-like sound or if it was just the guitarist that got him so interested. Maybe bit of both. He had a solo towards the end. The whole concert hall went dark, except for one single reflector aimed at him and Daiki might or might not stopped breathing for a moment. It started slow, simple rhythm, but generally picked up pace until he could no longer follow his fingers - fuck, the things those fingers could surely do - and once he hit the last note, a cloud of red sparks erupted from nowhere, followed by a fit of wild laughter.

  The sparks startled him. The damn pyrotechnics was almost within arm-reach and now the blazing red dots were raining on their heads, making him jump back. He wasn't quick enough though, at least if the stinging sensation on his forehead was something to go by. "Fuck!" Here it was, getting burned was a real deal here. He was never, ever going to another concert with Kise. Never.

  The show was over two hours long and once it was over, it left him sweaty, burned and sort of breathless. His ears were ringing, the absence of music louder than the concert itself. Alright. Now get out, start functioning again, forget that this ever happened. If he were lucky, he still could get out relatively unharmed.

  Kise had a different plan. “Wait, Aominecchi! I wanna go say hello to Kasamatsu-san,” he fished out a small red plastic card saying _all access_. Wow, Daiki didn't think he was really that buddy-buddy with the guy. “You wanna go with me? I, uh.. I told him about you looking for a job and he really wants to meet you, you know..”

  Oh damn.

  Daiki glanced at the stage for the last time. The band was long gone, leaving space for the security guards extinguishing the still smoldering remnants of whatever pyrotechnics. "You told these maniacs I wanna work for them?!"

  "Yeah, you mind?" Kise asked, unfazed at the fact that he just offered his friend to a group of psychos. "I showed him the photos you shared on instagram and he was really impressed-"

  "Are you fucking nuts?!" Maybe, if he choked him just now, he would be able to blame it on the smoke inhalation. It was too late to protest, though, since Kise's fingers were already clamped around his wrist. They made their way through the slowly dissolving crowd. Kise flashed the red card at some baldy security guy and boom, just like that they were pushed into a room full of people in various stages of undress. Daiki recognized the band members immediately, thanks to the fucking grey hair-

  Kise's cheerful voice pierced their conversation. "Kasamatsu-san!" All eyes were on them in instant. Fuck, that was embarrassing.

  Before the guitarist managed to pull his head out of the shirt he was currently trying to shake off, another voice joined, coming somewhere from behind them. "Oi, Kasamatsu, your fuck-buddy is here. And he brought a friend, wow."

  "Fuck off, Kagami."

  "I mean, he's cute, but I'm fucking tired, so-"

  Daiki turned around at the sound of the semi-familiar name. Really, it was him, the redhead guy that had him so hypnotized before and holy mother of fuck he was even more mouthwatering from this close. Water was dripping from his hair, the grey stuff already rinsed out of it, with the droplets sliding down his neck and pectorals and God, was it a bad thing that Daiki wanted to lick them off? You could grate cheese on that abs. He was sure as hell going to salivate if it weren't for the Kasamatsu guy stomping over and demanding answers.

  "This is Aominecchi! We talked about his make up skills, remember?" Kise offered. "You said you're looking for a different designer, so I thought I'll introduce you guys."

  "Of course! So it's you? Well, would you take it? I swear I'mma murder someone if I have to wear this again." His hair and face were still covered by the grey colour and Kasamatsu ran his hand through it. "It's itchy as fuck." Then, he turned to the rest of the band. "Hey, this is the new make up guy!"

  The dressing room erupted in a shouting contest then. "Oh, cool! Hello, buddy!" "Finally! Chihiro's ideas suck-" and "What did you say, bastard?!" Even the keyboard guy - Shin-chan, was it? - offered his own unamused: "Excellent." It all happened pretty fast, really - before he knew, he was squeezed onto some leather sofa with phone in hand, shoulders butting with the Chihiro-drummer and the bassist. They went through his instagram account - well, all he posted here were his works, anyway, so no harm done - but once they deemed him worthy, it was like an avalanche. "Hey, you do hair, too?" "Please, say you can sew!"

  "Well, yeah, I ca-"

  "Oh my god, Kiyoshi, we have to keep him!"

  "Hey, why don't we meet, let's say, next weekend? You show us your ideas and then we can sign up a contract."

  Maybe it was going a little too fast. Daiki snatched his phone from the brunette's hand and hid it back into the pocket of his jeans. "I'd like that, but what about the other guys? Where's ugh.. Kasamatsu?" He and Kise disappeared shortly after Daiki started going through the photos which could be like twenty minutes ago? Half an hour? "Or your manager?" Or the hot guitarist? Why wasn't he there?! He vanished right after calling him cute-

  Wait, he called Daiki cute.

  "Guys, we overdid it! I think he's about to faint-"

  And after that, it was too late to back out.

 

 

 

 


	2. Haifisch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you for the kind feedback, I appreciate it so much T_T Also, I'm posting this almost in the middle of the night, so there might be mistakes. I'm sorry for that :( 
> 
> The song - and the tune Kagami's playing - is Rammstein's Haifisch (A Shark).

  “Wow, cool.”

  Nijimura, the frontman, seemed to have a problem with pyromania, so Daiki gathered his hair on the top of his crown and tied it into a messy little ponytail so he wouldn’t accidentally set them on fire again, that would be a shame. He chose to leave his face untouched, aside from few black smudges around the man's eyes. Chihiro, the drummer, turned out to have naturally grey hair, complete with eyebrows and lashes which required a bit more work, but he had really nice bone-structure and working with him was even fun once he stopped being a sarcastic asshole. Doing his hair was useless since he was headbanging all the time, anyway.

  Phew. Alright, four good, only two of them left.

  “Mein Gott! Who are you and what have you done to our Shintarou?!”

  “Huh?” Daiki looked up from Midorima’s almost-finished face only to stare at the bewildered vocalist. Did he fuck up? Was it too much? On his defense, the guy told him to _do something unexpected_ so he went and painted his face like a skeleton – teeth, jaw, cheekbones, the usual combo. His green eyes stood out nicely like this and once he put the glasses on, he reminded Daiki of an evil genius doctor or something along that line. Yeah, he looked mighty good.

  “What are we going to do?!” Fine, okay, maybe the whole look was bit over the top. “What have you done, Aomine?! Now he’s gonna steal our ladies!”

  Daiki blinked. “That’s it?” Oh, then everything was alright.

  The skull split into a content smile. “You know I will, Nijimura. None of you stands a chance against me now.”

  Alright, so they all liked it so far, that was a relief. Maybe it would be the right time for his hands to stop shaking then? No, of course that won’t happen, at least as long as Kagami fucking Taiga sat there, scarlet eyes following Daiki’s every move. God, it was unnerving!

  Kiyoshi laughed. “Oh no, Midorima, please don’t do that!” He was sipping a coffee from a plastic cup, trying oh, so hard not to ruin his dark lipstick.

  “Sucks to be you, huh?”

  Daiki was mentally preparing himself for meeting Kagami the whole week, but it was no use. The moment he stepped into the studio, it was like the concert all over again.

  The redhead was splayed over the leather couch nearby and even like this, in loose cargo pants and worn out shirt, he was still fucking gorgeous. The red guitar was resting in his lap, unplugged, and he kept on strumming the instrument, grazing the strings with a pale blue pick. It was a short, playful melody, different from the ones he heard at the concert, but no less catching. His style didn’t change at all, Daiki noted – Kagami was just as intense as when he stood on the stage - even though it lacked the aggressive bite.

  It all came so natural to him that he didn’t even need to watch his fingers anymore.

  Daiki went back to straightening the guy’s emerald bangs, but he almost burned his own hand off when Mayuzumi chirped: “Don’t worry, Kagami, Midorima will steal your men, too.”

  Fucking what?!

  As stated above, the flat iron slipped from his grasp and clamped around the two fingers holding the abused strand of hair. “Fuck!” Daiki hissed, the burned fingers instinctively finding their way between his lips. It stung like a bitch.

  Of course, this little slip didn’t pass unnoticed. It immediately made him the center of attention. The guys cursed, voices rising one above the other, all of them more or less concerned. Midorima pried the hot iron from his slightly more trembling hand and placed it on the table nearby. “There is no need to finish this, thank you, I’m already impressed.”

  “Hey, are you alright?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled around the fingers, but it was too late.

  “C’mon, you have to put it under water.”

  Over the course of last seven days, Daiki had lots of weird, unsettling ideas that contained him and the redhead guitarist engaged in various activities, but none of them really played out like this.

  Kagami ushered him into a small bathroom in the speed of lightning. “Hey, it doesn’t look that bad.” The cold water was soothing, cascading over the angry red patches of burned skin and he let his shoulders sag for a moment. Hopefully, this little fiasco won't cost him the job he so miraculously landed. Things like that happen to everyone, don't they?

  He half-heartedly expected Kagami to mock him for his clumsiness, yet the redhead only smiled: "Damn, now you're really one of us." He was leaning against the opposite wall, hands oddly toying with the hem of his shirt - it was like an occupational disease, the absence of strings under his fingers making him restless. "We've all got burned at some point. It's like a trademark. You should see my back."

  "Hardly by a flat iron," Daiki muttered the words under his breath. He couldn't possibly be comparing actually catching fire with burning your fingers while styling hair? That was absurd.

  He could see the redhead's reflection in the mirror above the basin. Kagami smirked. Damn, how could someone be so cool?! More so, was Mayuzumi's little remark true? Could he really be into guys? Heh, even if he were, there was no chance he’ll ever consider..

  "Uh.. It's nothing, really. Let's go back. It's your turn anyway." The bathroom was really small and as much as he'd love to be pressed against the other, it was also doing funny things to his lower belly and Daiki would pretty much prefer to be left alone right now, so he could bang his head against the mirror or something.

  Kagami had zero understanding. "No fucking way! You're gonna stand there at least another five minutes."

  "But I have to-"

  "Who's the burn pro here?!" The split eyebrows wiggled at him. "Right, not you! Besides, you can do me later."

  He wanted to groan _yes, please,_ but the only sound that really passed his lips was a gasp. A fucking shocked, sharp gasp.

  Kagami froze. He must've realized what he said, since the next second he was all over the place. "Fuck, sorry, man! I meant the make up! Oh fuck." Of course he did, Daiki was sure about that, but couldn't a guy have dreams?

  He did his best to smile. It was a small smile, not the beaming-like-an-idiot kind of one, at least he hoped so. "It's okay."

  "No, it's not. You must be thinking I'm a fucking jerk! I mean, back at the concert I was, but I really thought you were some fuckboy and.."

  Damn, Daiki had to grab the basin. The band's official youtube channel had about fifteen music videos, one had been banned in Japan altogether, another four demanded to confirm the viewer's age. He had watched them all at least five times, so he saw Kagami being dragged around on a dog leash, he saw him rob a bank, escape a mental asylum and shag Snow White. After all of this, he was low-key prepared to witness anything.

  The same guy was standing in front of him, babbling and trying to prove he just didn't make a sexual innuendo. Now _that_ was a surprise.

  “I said it’s okay, just forget about it.”

  Kagami quirked an eyebrow at him. “Really? We’re good?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you ain’t gonna draw a dick on my face?”

  Daiki turned the water off. It wasn’t even five minutes, but he didn’t care - his hand felt okay by this point and he really needed to get away from the redhead otherwise he might spontaneously combust. “No, I won’t.” And even if he did, people would probably think it was just another provocation.

  He dried his hands and left the bathroom with Kagami in tow. The only one in the studio, however, was the bassist and even he seemed to be leaving. “Where the fuck is everyone?” The redhead wondered.

  “We figured out you two can handle it, so we already started.” Kiyoshi shrugged. “You know we all need to rehearse the new pieces.”

  “Yeah, sure. Practice hard.”

  Daiki watched the brunette slip into a door right next to the bathroom – later that month he noticed that whenever the band practiced, you could feel the pipes vibrating – but before the door closed, Kiyoshi peeked out again. “Hey, Kagami, you’re done with the lyrics, right?”

  “I gave it to Nijimura,” the redhead hollered before plopping down onto the single swivel chair.

  “Cool. And give Aomine the contract, will you? Thanks, man.”

  That was another thing. When carrying out his little research, Daiki found out that majority of the songs was written by Nijimura, usually paired up with one Kagami Taiga _because he always comes up with the corniest lines._ He didn’t think there was anything corny about murder or sadomasochism, but okay, he wasn’t there to question their morals or whatever.

  When he looked at the other now, he saw only a guy in his mid-twenties, with sharp features and two-toned hair falling into his eyes. Honestly, he didn’t know where all the anger came from. Had they met under different circumstances, bumped into each other at supermarket or in a bus, he would say that the redhead was just a harmless, handsome man, not _this._

  “Aomine, are you okay?”

  The redhead was staring at him, questioning. “You were spacing out.”

  Daiki blinked. “Was I? Sorry!”

  “You know, if your hand hurts you can just sign the contract and go home. I can do my own line just fine, besides, there’s no need for it. It's just a rehearsal.”

  “No, no!” Right, the rehearsal. The other room was obviously soundproofed, yet he could still feel the vibrations coming in waves, crawling up his spine. He should probably hurry up so Kagami could join the band. “Any special wish?”

  The redhead’s fingers were constantly drumming against his thighs and Daiki noticed, with strange fascination, that his nails were painted black. Damn. How could he miss it?! “No, do whatever you want.”

  “Okay.” The problem was he didn’t know what exactly he wanted to do. It’s not like Kagami needed anything – he was more than alright just the way he was – but everyone else got something extra today and Daiki kinda wanted to show off to the redhead, too. “Anything I should know?” He wouldn’t want Kagami crying his eyes out just because the guy had a problem with eyeshadow.

  “I don’t think so.” The crimson eyes followed his hand as he reached for a hair clip. “What is that for?”

  “To keep the hair out of the way?” Daiki stepped closer to the seated man, fingers lightly cradling through the two-toned bangs. He pinned them out of Kagami’s face and that itself was already a big change. Without the hair to mask the split eyebrows, his whole face seemed a lot stronger, but that’s what they were going for, right? Strong, intimidating look.

  He did the usual face routine. Kagami’s skin was on the drier end, so he slanted a little more moisturizer on him, fingertips softly massaging the delicate skin under his eyes. The redhead held still, although Daiki could tell he wasn’t used to other people touching his face like that.

  He was just filling in his eyebrows – only a tiny little bit, really, they were already defined enough – when Kagami fucking cringed. “You heard it?”

  “What?” He didn’t hear a shit, beside the muffled, rhythmical noise seeping through the walls. Still, he was glad for the sudden distraction because he already needed a damn breather. He had been touching Kagami’s face for last five minutes and his hands weren’t shaking only thanks to sheer willpower.

  The guitarist went completely still, even his ever-moving fingers stopped their drumming. His face crunched in distaste. “They’re going too fast. That’s not techno, idiots.”

  Again, Daiki didn’t hear a thing. “Is that the new song?” Okay, pause was over, time to go back to work. “Look up.”

  “Yeah.” Kagami tilted his head. No, damn, not that way! _“Haifisch.”_

  There was a moment when he contemplated just trying to draw the lane like this, but then again, that would look gross, so he gathered all his will, bit his lower lip and lifted Kagami’s chin the way he originally wanted. Damn. He was clean-shaven, warm and pretty much perfect, making Daiki’s heart hammer against his chest like crazy.

  The eyeliner took ages to do, but it was definitely worth it.

  Once done with the face, he took the hair clip out. The red bangs immediately fell back in its place. “Damn.”

  Kagami frowned. “Does it look bad?” He made a move as if to stand up – probably to go check himself in the mirror. “You really drew a dick on my face, didn’t you?!”

  Now it was Daiki’s turn to be shocked. “What? No!” God, what was the redhead thinking of him?! “It’s just the hair.”

  “Fuck the hair-“

  Before he knew, he was pushing Kagami back onto the chair, fingers digging into the muscled shoulder. “No, wait! I’ll fix it!” Of course he let go immediately. Fuck. Alright, breathe.

  Kagami chuckled - “Bossy.” – but he made himself comfortable once more.

  Daiki had to take a moment to process the whole thing, so he squatted to his case and pretended to look for a hairspray. He just pushed the redhead around, good fucking Lord! And his muscles were so firm and the smile, dear God, what was doing here? Then again, the muscles!

  The guitarist seemed to be equally frustrated, although he had different reasons. “Fuck, it’s tearing my ears off! Are they deaf?! They just butchered my song!”

  “Uh, you wrote it?” Daiki stood up, bottle of hairspray in hand.

  “Yeah, I wrote all of it, damn.”

  Kagami was frowning now. He was looking really sinister, but insanely hot at the same time. He needed to stop. Right now. “What is it about?” Daiki asked, hoping to take the other’s mind off the somehow unsatisfying sound. It worked. Kagami’s face split in the widest grin. “About a shark.”

  “Shark?” His fingers sneaked into the two-toned tresses, ruffling it a bit.

  “Yeah, _der Haifish,_ a shark.” He sang few lines, his voice successfully distracting Daiki from his work once again. “See, sharks cry, but no one knows because they live in the sea. Like, they’re not that bad, but no one really knows.”

  Daiki would lie if he said he got it. Actually, he was still mesmerized by Kagami’s voice. “Uh.. alright.”

  He parted the red hair at one side and fixated it, then ruffled the bangs again, swept it back from the other’s face and towards the side, then covered it all with a really generous amount of hairspray. If he were right, it was not moving an inch until Kagami chose to wash his hair.

  “The shark is us!”

  “Huh? Why?” He bent over, fingertips brushing over Kagami’s forehead for the last time, smoothing away the angry line here. He was really tempted to stare at his mouth or his eyes or just stare at the gorgeous man in general, but if he did then the redhead would think he was some kind of creep and Daiki didn’t want that.

  Kagami was obviously hellbent on making him understand the hidden meaning of his song. The red gaze bore into his face. “You know, everyone says we’re just a bunch of dickheads, but once you get to know us, we’re really decent. Most of the time. People just don’t want to see.”

 “That’s kind of deep.”

  “That’s how it is. I mean, you’ll see it on your own.” With that, he stood up from the chair and stalked to the closest mirror. In the meantime, Daiki packed all his palettes, brushes and just about everything he used today. He was just trying to close the way-too-full make up case when the bathroom door swung open. “Damn, Aomine! This is wicked!”

  “Thanks, I guess?” Daiki looked up. Kagami was grinning at him from the door frame, arms folded on his chest. “So you like it?”

  “I love it!”

  The smile he was given afterwards was worth all the flat iron burns, ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Links 2 3 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :D I dunno what to write here anymore aside from thank you for the all the feedback, it gives me life. Also, the song for this chapter (as the title says) is Rammstein's Links 2 3 4 (Left two three four).

  Once he signed the contract with the devil – e.g. the band of pyro-addicted maniacs – Daiki's life geared up to more chaotic, yet strangely exciting tempo.

  _Links zwo, links zwo, links zwo drei vier.._ The song was like a military marching chant. It made him tap his foot against the floorboards and quite often, when he was sure no one was watching, drum his pencil against every flat surface around. That was also how Kagami found him when he stepped into the studio that day. Oh God, why?!

  “You look different,” was the first thing he said, once he stopped laughing.

  Daiki quirked a brow. “Different?” There was nothing different about him. Okay, he got a new shirt, but Kagami would hardly notice that, so he reached for his glasses and-

  Oh, of course.

  “Less nerdy, I guess?” The redhead hung his leather jacket onto the coat peg and sauntered over to the table. He didn’t pay the slightest attention to the papers scattered all over it. “Put them on.”

  Daiki didn’t have time for this. The clothes designs wouldn’t finish themselves and he still had to decide the materials and fabrics, not to mention measuring all the guys. Every time he came up with something, someone would say _cool, but make it more rugged_ or _can we add studs here_ or _please,_ _make it non-flammable._ Fuck, it was too much. The only good thing was that he didn’t have to sew it all by himself.

  But even when buried under a pile of work, Daiki couldn’t really deny Kagami anything, so he let go of the pencil and sat the glasses back onto his nose. He used to be self-conscious about them, especially for the first few months. Being a messy person deep to the core, he also tended to forget where he put them all the time. “There. Happy?”

  "Hmmm." Moments later, the redhead was grabbing its hinges and the world went blurry. His knuckles brushed over Daiki’s cheekbones as he did so - it was the faintest of touches, but it still made his heart beat twice as fast.

  There was a soft clang as the frames grazed Kagami’s silver ring.

  “Wow.”

  The redhead proceeded to study his face for a while. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, but the rapt attention definitely made heat rise to his cheeks. No, no, no! Don’t blush, idiot, you ain’t a chick! Play it cool. “What?!” He croaked.

  “Nothing, you look.. uh, good.” The rings of crimson thinned, making space for the black depths of his pupils, but it might be just Daiki’s bad vision playing tricks on him. “It’s like two different people, but not entirely. I like that.”

  Kagami shouldn’t be doing these things to him. They were too close and he was too perfect and Daiki’s heart was too weak-

  “Anyway, you wanted to show me something.”

  Just like that, the moment was broken.

  Right, the sketches, that’s why he came here in the first place. Daiki pried his glasses out of the redhead’s grip - “Yeah, this,” - and handed him a sheet of paper instead, “I finished your looks.”

  “Cool.” While Kagami inspected his future stage outfits, he tried to work on Midorima’s jumpsuits – the guy was fucking keen on wearing them - but found out that he couldn’t draw a decent line as long as the redhead sat there. The _I like that_ part, although probably meaningless, repeated itself in his mind like a loop record and he honestly wondered whether the other said it just to be polite, or if he really found him somehow attractive.

  After a while, he dared to spare a glance at him. Kagami was worrying his lower lip, split brows furrowed as he squinted at the sketches. A flick of pink tongue was all it took for inappropriate thoughts to start pooling into Daiki's head. How would it feel to take that lip between his own? To run his tongue over the pearly white teeth and suck on his tongue? Being within an arm’s reach, all he’d have to do was to lean in.

  Of course, that will never happen. He should stop being so silly.

  “Is this a chain mail?” One black nail scraped against the paper.

  “Where?”

  Then, Kagami did the worst thing he could do. He didn’t just place the paper on the goddamn table and show him the piece in question as a decent human being would do, no, he had to scoot closer, for fuck’s sake, into Daiki’s side and held the sketch for them both to see.

  He was pointing at one of the tank tops. “It looks like chain mail. That’d be cool, but also heavy as fuck.”

  “Errr..” It wasn’t chain mail, of course not. At first, Daiki had toyed with the idea of using fishnet, but Kagami had discarded it, saying that he could as well go shirtless and it would look better. That was something he couldn’t argue with. “It’s not.” This thing was sort of a plan B. The little rings were made from metallic cloth and were sewn onto normal, black tank top. Front rows were too far to notice a thing and once the reflectors hit it, it will look like the real deal.

  It was the weirdest piece, really. The rest of his attire contained the usual stuff – plain shirts, normal pants, leather pants, military coat with a red armband sewn around the left biceps – all in black. Oh, and a pair of combat boots.

  He’d love to tell him this much, but that would require the redhead leaving his personal space. Kagami, however, stayed right there, his shoulder bumping into Daiki’s. “It’s not? Alright.”

  He smelled nice, like a shampoo and aftershave.

  “I mean, even if it were, I’d wear it if you said it’s hot.”

  Okay, he had enough.

  The line haunted him for the rest of the day. The guitarist had a strange way of speech - sort of crooked, without all the polite phrases Japanese people were so keen on, so when he said something, it could as well have ten different meanings.

  He wasn’t to blame, really. Daiki saw a footage of an interview with him and Nijimura where the two musicians stated that they actually met in Berlin when they were kids. Nijimura’s father underwent a medical treatment here while Kagami’s parents worked for the Japanese embassy. The two boys hit it off right from the start. Both of them repeatedly said they were more fluent in German than Japanese which was also the reason they chose German as the primary language for their lyrics. No radical axis power shit or anything, as the media loved to claim.

  Nijimura returned to his original homeland when his father passed away, but the other followed his parents to USA. They were reunited three years ago and that was also the beginning of the band.

_Da schlägt es links..  
_

  When you typed _Kagami Taiga_ into the search bar on youtube, you got over thirty thousand results which was a crazy number to begin with. Three quarters of it, however, were fan-made videos, usually accompanied by some really trashy pop song that would most likely make the guitarist cringe. The rest were either videos from live concerts or pieces of interviews. The comments were mostly filled with praises on his good looks – Daiki couldn’t blame them, he understood completely – but there were also ones that made him pretty uncomfortable.

  _Met him the other day, rude af._

_I’d like to know what happened to his face. Did he got run over by a lawn mower? Somebody explain._

_Bitch can’t even speak._

  He chose to ignore those.

  Daiki had known the redhead for over a month now, counted since the moment Kise dragged him to the concert, but the initial infatuation never really went away. At first, he thought it was because the man was so damn hot, but as he got to spend more and more time with him, he realized that Kagami really was a good person. Rash and cranky at times, yeah, but also determined and terribly good-natured for someone who wrote songs about things like cannibalism. A decent dickhead, Nijimura often affectionately called him.

  He was fierce and competitive and his laughter was the most contagious thing on this world. All in all, Daiki developed a big-ass crush on him.

  _Kann man Herzen brechen, können Herzen sprechen.._

  He’d seen this exact video at least twenty times, if not more. It was a director’s cut from some summer festival. The song was about having their heart on the right spot - on the left - and Kagami was obviously having the time of his life there. Every time they said _Links_ , the crowd would go “hey!,” bringing out the widest smile ever from him. White teeth shone from his kohl-smeared face and he looked so perfect it was almost unbearable. The chest beating and happy little dances were only a bonus, really.

  The things Daiki would do to make Kagami smile at him that way.

  When he went to the studio to measure the guys the next day, Daiki put on a pair of contact lenses. He hadn’t worn any in a while, so he somehow forgot how uncomfortable they could be. Damn, his eyes felt like a sandpaper.

  He was just measuring Kiyoshi’s waist when one of the lenses moved, fucking his vision up for good. He tried to blink it back, then rubbed his eye in hope that the damn piece of silicon would settle back in its place on its own. Thanks God, it worked.

  “Are you aware that you might destroy your eyesight?” Midorima chided when he noticed. Daiki immediately wanted to vanish. “Why would you intentionally do something like that?”

  “I wanted to try it.”

  “It’s your choice, but I wouldn’t risk it just to look good. That’s silly. There’s nothing wrong with wearing glasses, after all.”

  “I think Aomine is more than capable to decide that on his own.” Kagami stepped in. He had been fiddling with his cell phone for the last twenty minutes, small annoying smile plastered on his face, and paid zero attention to what was happening. Until now.

  Daiki didn’t expect him to rush to his defense. Unexpected or not, it made him very happy. “Uh, thanks?”

  Okay, he got excited a bit too soon. Kagami shot him a dark look: “Don’t thank me idiot and go take them out, your eyes are red as hell.” Then, he went back to his phone. Meantime, Daiki scribbled down Kiyoshi’s measures and started with Kasamatsu.

  “Aomine, seriously, you look like shit.”

  That hurt.

  Daiki looked up from where he knelt on the floor, tailor meter wrapped around the guitarist’s thigh. He sneered: “What do you care?” Oh, wrong words. He should’ve told him to fuck off or something.

  Kagami’s mouth fell open. You could basically see the little toothed wheels in his head spinning as he tried to come up with a single reason why should he _care_. He obviously failed to find any because after ten seconds of silence, he deadpanned. “Just do it.”

  Fuck it. “Fine!”

  Whatever, it’s not like he needed to see a damn thing, anyway! All he wanted was for the idiot to notice him, but he apparently looked like a shit and Kagami was happier staring at his phone which was okay with him, sure as fuck it was, he didn’t give a shit what the redhead thought about him!

  The worst part was that Kagami was right. Daiki’s eyes looked as if he hadn’t slept in a year, there was even a ring of broken blood vessels around his left iris. Taking the lenses out was a fucking relief. Shit. How come these things always happened to him?!

  Daiki rested his forehead against the cold surface of the mirror and let out a groan. He should stop fawning over Kagami and start thinking. Where was his brain, again? Did he lose it at Makuhari Messe?

  “Hey.”

  He couldn’t just leave him alone for a moment, could he?

  “You came to say _I told you so_?!”

  “But I told you so.”

  He was tempted to just hit Kagami. Black eye would work nicely with his stupid split eyebrows and they could always say it was part of the attire. With a huff, Daiki parted his forehead from the mirror and turned to face the guitarist. He was going to say something snarky, something to set the shitty musician in his place, but he wasn’t quick enough.

  “Look at me.” Two strides and the redhead was in his personal space – again – hands clasping on Daiki’s cheeks. After a whole minute of close-up staring, he frowned: “Idiot. Now you look like a stoner.” Well, he certainly felt high. Kagami’s thumbs brushed the skin under his bottom eyelids. The tips of his fingers were calloused thanks to the guitar strings, yet the touch was still gentle, making Daiki melt.

_Beep beep._

  The redhead immediately jumped away, phone already in hand. “Uh, Aomine? You won’t be able to work like this, will you? Without the glasses..” The same fingertips that caressed Daiki’s skin seconds ago were now tapping on the display furiously. “I gotta go, so..”

  “Yeah.” Of course he had to. The coldness that spreading through his belly was worse than the stinging eyes. What the fuck did the idiot think? That he could be all touchy-feely with him and then run away as if nothing happened?  Once again, Daiki’s mouth was faster than his brain. “Hey, Kagami-“

  The redhead tucked the phone back into a pocket of his fine-fitted jeans – well, he was all well-dressed today, sleek and dark and so hot – and turned back at him. “Huh?”

  What now? What was he supposed to say? Daiki didn’t know. He was just being pissed off and stupid and Kagami didn’t give a fuck about him. He blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind.

  “Your nails look like shit.”

  "Fuck, I'll never get them right," the redhead scowled. He took in the messy black nail polish. “Could you paint them for me? Tomorrow?”

  Daiki met the pleading gaze. He wanted to say _no, that ain't my job, go ask whoever are you rushing to,_ but none of the words crossed his lips. “Yeah, sure.”

  He was such a sucker for those eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were some pieces of lyrics used here. It's not important for the fic, but there's the English translation if you want to know:  
> "Da schlägt es links.." - It beats left, there..  
> "Kann man Herzen brechen, können Herzen sprechen.." - Can you break hearts, can hearts speak..


	4. Herzeleid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! *waves* I wanted to post this chapter about ten hours ago, but my wi-fi decided to play hard to get so I'll just post it now. Hope you like it so far :)

  _Bewahret einander vor Herzeleid_ \- save each other from Heartache. Even though he couldn't understand the words fully, they felt oddly fitting.

  He tried to be mature about it. Someone who’d lived almost quarter a century shouldn’t want to throw stuff when angry, yet right now, Daiki felt like hurling the bottle of nail polish out of the fucking window. Or perhaps at Mayuzumi’s expressionless face, that was also very satisfying idea.

  “This,” the drummer pointed at them, “is officially the gayest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Why the fuck was he even here?!

  He was about to ask just that, but Kagami beaten him to it. He was rubbing the fingers of his left hand with a cotton pad, filling the whole studio with an acetone-like smell. “Why the fuck don’t you just go home?! It’s not like you’re practicing or anything.” That was true. He was just reading some book, there was no reason for him to be here in the first place.

  “Neither are the two of you. Besides, I would love to go home, but Shuuzou has a girl over.” Mayuzumi shrugged, unfazed by the heated glances he was getting.

  Would these guys ever stop amaze him? Daiki quirked a brow at the drummer. All that was visible of him were the ends of his pale grey hair, sticking from behind the book's cover. “You two live together?” He didn’t know that. When he came to think of it, he didn’t know two shits about personal lives of the band members altogether. For example - who was to blame for the string of love bites adorning Kagami’s neck? Oh fuck! That was a wrong train of thoughts now! Think something happy, quick! Puppies. Naps in the sun. Punching Kise-

  Thanks God, Mayuzumi tore him out of it. “For a while now, yeah. It’s annoying. I should’ve moved out when I had the chance, just like Taiga here..”

  “Yeah, we both used to squat at Chihiro’s place.” The said redhead turned around - the used cotton pad traced a half-circle through the air, disappearing in the trash bin a second later – and Daiki was suddenly hypnotized by the flexing muscles of his neck. It was so inviting, damn.

  That inevitably drew his attention back to the hickeys though.

  Fuck, he should’ve never agreed to do this! Had he known, he would’ve never agreed to do this!

  The bruises were almost non-existent. It looked as if someone smeared a blush powder over his skin, with a bits of rouge there and there. Whoever made them had done really poor job, but that knowledge didn’t calm his mind in any way.

  They were sitting on the floor with a cardboard box between them acting as a sorry substitute for a manicure table. Daiki had bought a bottle of black nail polish earlier that day, but Kagami brought his own, along with the clear top coat so he was going to use that instead.

  “You ready?”

  “Yeah,” Daiki nodded, fingers already screwing the tiny bottle open. His nose was immediately hit by the aggressive smell. Some people said it made them sick, but to him it seemed weirdly pleasant. It was just like with their music.

  Kagami planted his hands onto the cardboard, fingers spread wide. “Fine, let’s do this!” Okay, the time to be brave was here. Daiki bent forward. He didn’t need glasses to see this. He tipped the brush in the black liquid and started from the pinky, willing his fingers to stop shaking. Shit. He’d never painted his own nails nor did he paint anyone else’s so this was something of a grand premiere for him and right from the start, he found it rather annoying. "Damn." He had to twist his wrist in a really weird way to be able to coat the nail’s sides and goddammit, he won’t be any better than Kagami at this.

  Then, an idea came.

  “Uh, wait- is this okay?” He placed the redhead’s hand onto his own. This way, he could move the long fingers the way he needed while not breaking his own wrist.

  Kagami tensed. His eyes widened for a moment, but then something shifted and he was beaming, wide, surprised smile targeted only and only at him, making Daiki stop mid-stroke. “Hey, that's pretty clever.” He wiggled his fingers a little, but then relaxed and watched as the tiny brush coated nail after nail in midnight black.

  So, Daiki held Kagami Taiga’s hand. The whole thing left a weird, fluttering sensation in his tummy and he prayed to God that his palm wouldn’t start sweating or anything equally embarrassing. The redhead was surprisingly laid-back about it, even said things like _wow, it looks much better than mine_ or _Aomine, is there something you can’t do?_ The praises, combined with the warm weight of his hand made Daiki's cheeks burn.

  “Just like I said,” damn Mayuzumi and his expert annoy-the-fuck-out-of-you timing. “The gayest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Fuck off.” They said almost in unison.

  There was about a minute of silence in which Daiki successfully managed to finish Kagami’s right hand and started with the other, but the drummer obviously grew bored with the book and he chose to nag instead. “It’s almost like living with you again. It was fun, remember? I especially miss you sneaking the little blue guy inside when you thought no one’s home. What was his name, again?”

  In a heartbeat, the easy atmosphere disappeared.

  He could see the tightening of muscles in Kagami’s jaw before the redhead sighed: “Kuroko.” Daiki thought he felt the same thing in his own chest.

  He’d wish that Mayuzumi stopped right there, but of course the guy just had to go on. Slowly, it started to feel as if he were talking to him and not with Kagami anymore. Daiki would gladly do without this kind of information though. “Right! Kuroko! I liked him. He was sort of cotton-candy savage, you know, precious little bean, but also-”

  “Shut up, will you?!” Through the monologue, Daiki witnessed Kagami going from uncomfortable to annoyed until eventually, he settled on plain pissed off. When he opened his mouth to stop the rant, the harshness of his voice surprised them all.

  The drummer actually sat up, the novel book sliding into his lap. “Calm down, Taiga, I’m just remembering the old times.”

  “Then go remember them somewhere else!”

  “But I told you, Shuu-“

  “I don’t fucking care!”

  Daiki was actually glad that he just put the brush into the polish bottle, otherwise he might’ve painted a strip over Kagami’s whole forearm.

  “Hey!” There was a moment he thought the redhead was going to get up and start a fight or something equally stupid. Any other day, he’d let them be. The whole situation was making him want to bolt anyway, not to mention the whole hickey thing, but he just painted Kagami’s damn nails and the idiot was not going to hit anyone until the goddamn nail polish dried. His fingers clamped around the redhead’s palm. “Stop it, both of you. It’s getting annoying.”

  Minutes after, Mayuzumi was really scrambling out of the door. His face might be as blank as always, but something about his posture screamed he knew that he crossed the line. "See ya!" Daiki would love to follow his suit. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to pack his stuff, go home and forget today had ever happened, but he was still clutching Kagami’s hand and owed him a good layer of top coat.

  The redhead was fuming for a while. Daiki didn’t look at him – he had hard time stopping his own hands from shaking – but he could hear the other taking deep breaths. They seemed especially loud in the tense silence that settled between them. A part of him – a morbid part, the very same that made him pick on the flat iron burn – wanted to hear more about the mysterious Kuroko figure. What was he like? What did he look like? What kind of guy made Kagami fall head over heels and was there any chance Daiki resembled him in the slightest?

  He was almost done when the guitarist spoke again. “Sorry about that.”

  Yeah, he was sorry to hear it all too, but it was for better. He should’ve realized form the very beginning that this stupid little crush was going nowhere. “It’s okay,” he lifted Kagami’s hand, checking his work for the last time. Damn, it was on fleek! He had a strange urge to blow on the polished nails. What the fuck?! “Let it dry for a while." With that, Daiki finally got up. The inside of his chest felt oddly hollow, but that was probably just the space his dumb little hopes left when they disappeared.

  Fuck, where had he left his glasses again?

  “Hey, Aomine?” Kagami also sounded hollow. For some unfathomable reason, that made him feel only worse. When Daiki turned to look at him, however, he sported a smile, small and definitely not sincere. “Thank you. You’re amazing with all those things, really.” He made a vague gesture towards his face. “Your girl is probably the luckiest.”

  “I’m not dating anyone.”

  Fuck. In retrospective, Daiki didn’t really know why he blurted out just that. It was probably the stupidest line he could have said - Kagami obviously wasn’t asking him about his love life, he was just trying to thank him for painting his damn nails.

  Still, the redhead made a face. “You’re kidding me, right? I mean, look at you!” Man, don’t even start there! “Tall, dark and handsome, women must be throwing themselves at you!”

  That was all nice and great and made him feel really better, but it also meant that Kagami thought he was straight which would be sort of misunderstanding. Like, blocking-all-his-chances sort of misunderstanding. Should he tell him, then? Maybe he could. “Err..”

  Fuck it.

  “Have you seen my glasses?”

  The question seemed to distract Kagami enough to let go of the latest topic. Few minutes later, both of them were crawling all over the studio on all fours, peeking under the couch, between the throw pillows, even under Mayuzumi’s drums. Of course Daiki didn’t found shit – everything that was further than four feet away was blurry – so he was pretty relieved when Kagami eventually hollered: “I found them!”

  He waltzed out of the bathroom with the piece of eyewear in hand. “They were lying on the little cabinet under basin. Why, though? Why, Aomine?!”

  “I don’t know, okay?” Daiki might not see his expression that clearly, but he sure as hell heard the mocking tone in his voice, even the bubbling laughter he was trying so hard to suppress. He groaned: “Just give me the glasses so we can go home.”

  “Are you rushing somewhere?” Finally, he could see the split eyebrows almost joining Kagami’s hairline, wondering. Also, the half-assed hickeys littering both of his jugulars. The hollow feeling nested back behind his ribs.

  The sad thing was, Daiki had absolutely nowhere to rush. His apartment felt empty and silent unless he switched on the TV or blasted some of the band’s songs. Kagami’s songs. “No, but I figured out you’d want to go..” He pointed in the general direction of the other’s neck. It was a lame gesture, really. “You know.”

  “Oh.” Yeah, he understood. “This is embarrassing.” A hand found a way into his red, two toned hair and Kagami’s gaze wandered all over the studio before finally settling somewhere above Daiki’s knees. “It was more of a.. one-time thing.”

  One time thing, he said?

  You know that feeling when you get real deal good news, but you’re still processing it and don’t believe something like that could ever happen to you? That’s how he felt. There was no time to ponder about such things though, because the other guy was still talking.

  “-I thought I’d wear a scarf, but it’s fucking hot today-“

  He looked so uncomfortable, damn, Daiki felt a sudden urge to hug him, but of course he wouldn’t do that! “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

  “I know, but we’re friends.” Kagami shrugged. His eyes finally met Daiki’s – they stared at each other for three or four heartbeats, unwavering – and the gaze was strangely intense, as if the redhead waited for him to make any kind of move. Turns out he did. “We are, right?”

  That was the moment everything sunk in.  

  Kagami wasn’t dating anyone. He said they we’re friends – even though that was sorely not enough, Daiki was feeling overjoyed just by the thought that the guitarist thought about him so highly. His smile was so wide that his cheeks started actually hurting. “Y-yeah! Of course!” But back to the topic - he was being insensitive as fuck here, but Daiki asked anyway, for the sake of his own sleep. “So.. Uh, you ain’t dating them?”

  It felt like threading on thin ice. Kagami could get angry anytime, could leash out at him – how could his newest friend sound so happy about his failed relationship?! – but instead of that, he just shook his head. “Nah. Guess we both looked for something different.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Daiki heard himself say. It wasn’t entirely a lie – he didn’t want the other to be sad or heartbroken, no.

  The smell of acetone and nail polish was still lingering there, although faint.

  He wanted to know what Kagami looked for.

  Meantime, the redhead marched over to the cardboard box. He grabbed it and peeked inside, then placed it right back on the very same spot. “It’s okay. Some people just aren’t meant for each other.”

  The first few seconds, Daiki just stared at him and tried not to laugh. So Nijimura was right, after all. And the thing rolled from Kagami’s lips so easily, so naturally he could hardly believe it!

  “That was so fucking corny!”

  “What?!” As soon as Kagami heard that, he squawked: “Take it back, I was being poetic here!”

  “No, man. You were just being corny.” There was no way he couldn’t laugh at _that_ face. It hardly mattered since the redhead joined seconds after, with tiny, happy wrinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “Aww, shut up, Aomine!” He barked, but there was no bite in his words. ”Stop laughing, I’m fucking serious! Just shut up and sit down, will you?!”

  Kagami pointed at the box as if it was supposed to explain everything.

  “Huh?” Why?

  “You painted mine, I’mma paint yours.”

  When he went to buy groceries that evening, the cashier gave his messy black-painted nails a stink eye, but Daiki hardly cared. Kagami held his hand for at least half an hour that day and he was on cloud nine. No dumb looks could pull him down off it.

 _Bewahret einander vor der Zweisamkeit_ \- save each other from Togetherness. Even though the song was great, he couldn't identify with that part, really.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herzeleid is Rammstein's song and also the name of their first album, the word can be translated as "heartache." I'd like to think that in the fic, Kagami wrote it for Kuroko. Yeah.


	5. Stripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys :) Thank you for the kudos and comments, they are very much appreciated :3  
> This chapter was supposed to be shorter, yet somehow turned longer then all the previous??? dunno how.. Also, it's almost midnight and I'm tired af so there might be fuck ups of all kind, I'm sorry for that.  
> Anyway, hope you'll enjoy it :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is called Stripped and it's original version was created by Depeche Mode, but Rammstein covered it and I like their version far better.

  This was the first live show Daiki had ever been a part of and seeing the whole thing from behind the curtains felt just strange. It wasn’t any less exciting. Overwhelming? Maybe. Scary? Yeah, but it was also thrilling and filling him with fierce pride every time the audience exploded in applause.

  “Do I look hot?” Kagami grinned when he helped him into the coat. It was a stupid question and stupid questions required equally stupid answers. “You’re always hot.”

  Before he could slap himself for his stupidity, he was crushed in a quick hug against Kagami’s muscled, very much naked chest. “Thank you! It’s all your work, anyway!” Good Lord! “And you’re pretty hot yourself!” Needless to say, he’d been blown away for the next two hours.

_Come with me into the trees, we’ll lay on the grass and let hours pass._

  They all seemed so happy and the crowd loved them, cheered, whistled and sang along with their tunes. It was heart-warming, really. Daiki watched them from behind the scene, leaning on one of the metal scaffoldings that held the reflectors with a stupid, wide smile on his lips. Midorima played the keyboard as if he were Mozart himself, equally rapt and focused while Mayuzumi all-out sneered at the audience. It was probably his form of smile. Of course Nijimura was as captivating as always, breathing fire and singing terrible things in a voice that made them sound like the most beautiful kind of poetry. All in all, it was great.

  The music rumbled through his chest, resonated within him. It felt as intense as the first time, maybe even more because this time he understood what the songs meant, hell, he even caught himself singing along.

_Take my hand, come back to the land, let's get away just for one day._

  Kiyoshi seemed exceptionally happy. Out of them all, he was probably enjoying live shows the most, banging his head and urging everyone to sing along. He was such a nice guy, damn. Daiki heard him encouraging the guys before they went on stage, telling everyone to _just have fun, you’ll do great_ and even though it was no big pep talk, you could see the tension being lifted off their shoulders. He was always like that, really, putting people on ease just with his presence.

  “They’re pretty good today, huh?”

  “Wha-“ He would lie if he said that the sudden question didn’t startle him. Peeling himself off the metal construction, Daiki turned around. There was a guy – few inches shorter than him, with fine black hair and work pass hanging around his neck - and he was talking to him. Wait, did they know each other? There were so many people fussing around the stage that he could hardly tell. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.” No, they didn't know each other. He would remember that face.

  A hand came forward, its bony fingers brushing Daiki’s wrist. “Moriyama Yoshitaka,” the stranger said, “I take care of the backstage. You’re the new costume guy, right?”

  Take care of the backstage? He was hundred percent sure he hadn’t seen Moriyama step into the dressing room, not even once. Then again, it could have lots of meanings. He could be one of the security guys or even a cleaner, whatever.

  Daiki raised his eyebrows at the hand still lingering in his personal space. Okay, he shook it. “Aomine Daiki.”

  “Nice to meet you, Daiki.”

_Let me see you stripped._

  Paying attention to Moriyama became an impossible feat once the guitars started roaring. Daiki’s eyes instinctively found Kagami’s back, drank in the curve of his strong neck as well as the expanse of his shoulders. The next time he should make him wear one of the shirts or preferably go shirtless.

  It wasn’t even their song, no, it was a cover of.. _Depeche Mode?_ Yeah, that was it. For the first time since the beginning of the concert, the redhead seemed to slow down. Daiki had zero idea how did he manage that - usually, Kagami was all but still, he’d pounce, he’d bang his head and tap his feet and do all kinds of gestures towards the audience. Not now, though. Daiki didn’t even need to see his face to know that he had his eyes closed, lips softly brushing against the metal of microphone. Damn, he wanted to be that microphone so bad.  

  “How.. you like.. so far?”

  Oh, he almost forgot about the guy standing next to him! “What?!”

  “The job! They’re a real handful..” Moriyama stated as if it was the most obvious thing under the sun.

  “Huh?” Daiki didn’t know what exactly did the guy mean when he said _real handful_ , but it better be nothing bad. He might not know the band for that long, but he sure as hell knew they were decent guys and no flat-haired bastard was going to talk shit about them. Especially not about Kagami.

_You’re breathing in fumes I taste when we kiss._

  There are people you meet and dislike straight from the beginning and yeah, for him, that was Moriyama. It might come off as rude, but he didn’t even pretend to care what the man said next.

  Kasamatsu wasn’t a make up kind of guy. He claimed it was heavy and itchy and all-in-all gross. "Better not put any of that on me!" Eventually, Daiki persuaded the guitarist to let him at least tightline his lash lines. See, his eyes were the colour of blue steel and this was the least they could do to make them pop.

  Turns out even Kasamatsu lost his cool once a kohl pencil neared his eyeball. “What the hell? Get it out of my face, Aomine! You wanna poke my eyes out?!” It took some time, but eventually Daiki managed to hush him. “Just look up at me. Kise does this all the time and he still has both eyes.” 

  “.. and pretty, you know..  give them..  wristbands and let them backstage..” He pried his eyes away from the rhythm guitarist. This Moriyama guy was really persistent.

  His mouth was moving, but the surrounding sound was actually so loud that Daiki caught only bits and pieces of the unending monologue. Heh, that was more than enough anyway. All he wanted was to watch the show and maybe get a peek at Kagami’s ass in those leather pants, for fuck’s sake! Was it that much? Why couldn’t the guy just go chat with someone else?!

  “Oh, sorry! Can’t hear a.. this noise!” The thing was, Moriyama didn’t understand that the lack of answers was actually a disinterested silence, so instead of backing away, he scooted closer. Idiot. He had to stand on his tiptoes to reach Daiki’s ear. “Let’s talk later, hmm?”

  His breath was hot and moist and sent shivers down his Daiki’s spine. Not exactly the good kind of shivers. “Come to the afterparty, Mr. Designer. We’ll have fun.” With that, a white rubber wristband was thrust into the palm of his left hand.

_Let me see you stripped._

  Daiki was unsure of what to do. When Moriyama disappeared seconds later, he was more than relieved – the guy rubbed him the wrong way – but he stuck the rubber band into his pocket anyway. No one said he had to talk to Moriyama. After all, afterparties were all about the band members, right?

_Let me hear you make decisions._

  “This is it,” Kagami groaned once he fell into the make up chair. The piece of furniture protested loudly under his weight, but he didn’t give a damn, just stretched his long legs and let his eyes slide shut. “I’m dead.”

  Daiki heard himself snicker: “Already? Are you sixty or what?!” Truth to be told, the redhead’s legs were really getting in the way. He contemplated just stepping over them, but then a different idea crossed his mind.

  “I’m not, idiot! It’s just..”

  “Just what?” He grabbed a bottle of make up remover and poured a little onto few cotton pads. Of course Kagami could clean his face himself. He should, actually, but once Daiki saw him stagger back into the dressing room all sweaty and tired, well, he couldn’t say no. “Lift your head.” Kagami did as he was told, eyes still closed.

  "You're being bossy again."

  Daiki circled the chair, pondering on the best angle until he finally decided to just stand behind it. He could see the way the split eyebrows rose once the redhead realized, yet no negative comments came so he got to work. “So, why are you so dead? It’s been only two hours.”

  “I know, but..” But what? Kagami’s voice dipped lower, became more of a murmur. Daiki gently swept the cotton pad over his eyelids, erasing every single trace of his previous work as the man relaxed under his fingertips. “It’s dumb. I always get so excited and then can’t fall sleep. At all.” Damn. The images immediately flooded Daiki’s mind. Kagami being awake the whole night, all pumped up, tossing and turning in his bed because he just couldn’t wait to get onto the stage. “That’s cu-“

  No! No way in hell was he going to say that out loud.

  Instead, he tried to concentrate on cleaning the redhead’s face. He traced the other’s cheekbones, temples, then brow, wiping off the bits of eyebrow pencil he put there before. Daiki was just tapping the pad over his forehead when Kagami’s head rolled backwards and rested against his stomach. _Fuu~ck._ He must’ve made some kind of distressed noise because the guitarist cracked one eye open, well, he tried to crack one eye open, and murmured: “You mind?”

 _Mind?_ “N-nah,” a nervous little laughter escaped his throat. He all but minded. Actually, if he could squeak in delight while not startling the other, he’d totally do it.

  “Hey, ’Mine..”

  “Yeah?”

  “Dis’ nice..” He sounded so drowsy. Daiki had to bite the inside of his cheek not to _awww_ at him. He continued to clean away all the make up around the redhead’s nose, down to the cupid’s bow and around his slightly parted lips. When he brushed his fingertips over them, it was totally by accident.

  Eventually, Kagami dozed off and Daiki went to help Kiyoshi with his eyeliner. “Thank you,” the brunette smiled once the thin line disappeared, “you’re really helpful. I don’t know if I told you before, but it’s great you chose to work with us.”

  “I’m glad too.” He couldn’t help but smile. “At least you ain’t boring.”

  “No. No, we’re certainly not!” Soft laughter rang through the dressing room. Daiki automatically glanced back to where Kagami sat, head lolled back. He was still napping. Hell, the guy was sure going to wake up with a stiff neck. “So, are you going to the afterparty? It’s gonna be fun - Midorima might even dance and that’s something you cannot miss.”

  Here it was again. Daiki took in Kiyoshi’s wide smile – his positiveness really was contagious, goddammit! – and all he could do was nod. Half an hour won’t kill him, right? Then, he could always say he was tired or sick or whatever. “Yeah, I can go, but..” His eyes traveled back to the sleeping redhead. “Can we leave him here like that?”

  “It’s okay, Shuuzou will wake him up in no time, don’t worry. He’s always tired after concerts.”

  Well, Daiki wasn’t entirely convinced, but he also refused to believe that Kiyoshi would just leave one of the boys behind if he didn’t know that they were going to be alright. “Okay, then.”

   He reached into his pocket and pulled out the white rubber band, the thing bringing back a memory of the intrusive idiot from before. Gross.

  The motion seemed caught the bassist attention. His thick eyebrows rose, questioning. “Huh? Where did you get that?”

  “From this Moriyama guy-“

  At the mention of the name, Kiyoshi made a face. Daiki could identify with that distaste. “Yeah, he gives it to people before the concert begins so the security would let them in, but you have the pass card, don't you? Besides, friends don’t need these.”

  It took a moment to sink in, but once he sorted out everything the bassist said, he got it – Moriyama was in charge of who goes backstage or not and he obviously took it upon himself to choose the hottest young things he found. The second part was a wild guess, judged by the variety of people Daiki saw once they entered the bar. It was dimly lit and just as smoke-induced as the concert hall. Once again, he could feel the corners of his eyes beginning to sting. Fuck!

  He spotted Kasamatsu and Midorima almost immediately. They were surrounded by a group of people and all of them really were dancing to the heavy beat. “What the fuck?” Kiyoshi was certainly right – seeing the green haired keyboardist dance like that was something he couldn’t miss. Or ever forget.

  “He’s funny guy, just refuses to admit it,” shrugged the brunette.

  Daiki half-hoped to find Kise among all the model-like people, but his friend was nowhere to be seen. Wasn’t he still dating Kasamatsu? It was true that they hadn’t seen each other in a while, mainly because of all the sewing he had to do, but then again, he expected that Kise would call him and share the news if something like that happened.

  They joined the mingling crowd and surprisingly, it really was fun. Kasamatsu obviously had more than one drink already and he felt exceptionally sociable, sharing embarrassing stories from tours and loudly claiming he could outdrink everyone in the band. Daiki didn’t doubt it. The guitarist was just in the middle of an anecdote when he caught a glimpse of crimson.

_Let me hear you speaking just for me._

  Kagami waltzed into the bar, annoyance written all over his face. He managed to change into black fitting shirt and Daiki couldn’t tore his gaze away from his defined abs. It was either by sheer luck or maybe the redhead felt his hungry gaze, he didn’t know, but seconds later their eyes met. Damn. It couldn’t be only in his head, even Kagami had to feel the pulling-

  “Aomineey!” An arm fell around his shoulders. “Wher’re ya goin’?” Kasamatsu slurred.

  “I, uh.. I wanna say hi to Kagami,” Daiki admitted. The guitarist whistled, then gave him a light shove “Cool! Tell’im to come ‘ere!”

  But when he turned his attention back to the redhead, the man was long gone. Maybe he went to get something to drink? Yeah, right. Being taller than most, it wasn’t hard to spot Kagami. He was sitting on a bar stool, nursing something from a tinted tumbler and the neon light painted his cheekbones blue.

  Daiki made his way through the crowd. Quick, what was he going to say? _Hi, let me buy you a drink?_ Why the fuck was he even thinking about it, he had talked with Kagami like thousand times, there was nothing to be nervous about! Only if he weren’t so damn perfect, that would make things so much easier.

  “Hey, Mr. Designer!” Nope. No, he was in no mood for the sleazy bad-hair guy, damn! Still, Moriyama materialized right next to him. “So you came, huh? I’m so happy!”

  “Yeah, sorry, I’m actually going somewhere.” Daiki tried to brush him off, but the fucker was just as persistent as before.

  “To the bar? Good, let me buy you a drink!”

  “I can buy a drink on my own.”

  “Alright. I understand!” Moriyama lifted his palms in defeat. “You'd rather buy me one, then? Sorry, I just guessed you were more _passive_ guy. Might be the glasses?”

  When was the last time he punched a man? Back in college, probably, but that didn’t matter – these things are like riding bike, you don’t just forget something like that. From the corner of his eye, Daiki saw Kagami turning around, crimson eyes scanning the bar. He still looked mighty annoyed, but the annoyance was quickly replaced by something different when their eyes met.

  Taking in a deep breath, Daiki tried to be rational. “Listen, there’s not gonna be any drink!” He didn’t want to make a scene nor did he want to start a fight with all the guys around.

  “Wow, so you wanna go right to the interesting part?” Of course, Moriyama didn’t get the hint. Instead of sauntering away, he inched closer, right hand brushing dangerously close to Daiki’s cro-

  Okay, fuck it!

  “Fuck off!” He gave the smaller man a shove, sending him tumbling backwards, his back colliding with some chick in high heels. “Save your fucking hands for yourself or I’ll-“ He wasn’t exactly sure what would he do, but it would probably be something embarrassing, involving his fist colliding with the guy’s face.

  “Wow, hey, hold your horses, man!” Fingers sneaked around his biceps, tugging him back until his side collided with another hard body. Kagami. “I’m sure he already got it.” Flash of white teeth and the guitarist was sneering down at the shocked man. “You got it, Moriyama?! Good. Then fuck off!”

  Daiki didn’t know who to watch first – Kagami, whose fingers were still clutching his arm like a vice, or stunned Moriyama who was backing away like crazy? Both were weirdly pleasing. Eventually, he chose the former.

  “Sorry for that,” he sighed. Great, now he's going to look like psycho.

  "Shit." The redhead was watching him quite intently, crimson eyes fixed somewhere above his chin. "Aomine, that was-“

  “What? You think I wouldn’t take him down?” Damn! His mouth was faster than his brain once again, making Daiki cringe at the harshness of his own voice. He wanted to apologize or something, but the other didn’t mind.

  “I know you would,” Kagami grinned. “C’mon, wanna have a drink with me, Rocky?”

  “Only if it’s whiskey.”

  “Whatever you wish..”

  With that, they both made their way to the bar, Kagami’s fingers still lingering on Daiki’s arm.

 


	6. Te quiero puta!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back :) You remember me saying the last chapter turned out too long? This one turned out even longer. Again, the song is by Rammstein and it's called Te quiero puta! (something like I love you/want you, whore???? I'm not sure, sorry for that).  
> Anyway, hope you will enjoy it and sorry for possible fuck ups :)

  Daiki had never felt the need to buy a car. He had lived his whole live in a city so whenever he wanted to get somewhere, he just hopped on metro or caught a bus, besides, he didn’t even have a driving licence! It’s not like he could just drive to damn Niigata, for fuck’s sake!

  He told that much to Nijimura, but the frontman merely shrugged: “That’s okay, you can come with us. There’s plenty of space on the bus and the clothes will be loaded there, anyway.”

  “I don’t know.” At first, he wanted to decline - he could get there by train or go with the pyro crew, whatever – but all protests died on his lips once Kagami stepped in with that blinding smile. “Yeah, we’ll squeeze in.”

  Squeeze in, he said? “Alright.”

  It was an annual three-day event. The guys were supposed to play on the first evening and no one really planned on staying there until the end, so all he had to do was survive one night. One single night, that’s what? Seven hours?! Piece of cake.

  Or not.

  It was in the middle of packing when Daiki finally admitted he might have a problem. He’d never slept in a bus before, so he had no fucking idea what to bring with him. A sleeping bag, perhaps? No, that’s too lame. Then what the fuck was he supposed to pack?! It was around ten p.m. - after he successfully turned the whole apartment upside down - when he stumbled upon an old wool blanket. That will have to do.

  Another problem was obviously Kagami. No, shit! Not a _problem._ Daiki looked forward to every single minute spent with the man, but whole the idea also made him terribly nervous. What if he made a fool of himself? He already had a hard time keeping his cool around the redhead, now more than ever with the growing friendship – well, Kagami called it friendship while for Daiki it was more of a torture – but to sleep in the same space? That might actually be too much. How was he supposed to fall asleep with the redhead few feet away from him?

  All the fleeting touches, glances and pats on the back made his skin prickle. Every time Kagami slumped into the make up chair, he imagined how would it feel to climb into his lap, to trap the firm, perfect body beneath his own. He knew the man would push him away if he ever tried to do so, of course he would, but that couldn’t stop him from at least fantasizing. See, Kagami’s calloused fingers would rake down his sides. He’d smash their mouths together, impatient and hungry - _fuck, ‘Mine, what took you so long?!_ – and his hips would buckle up. In return, Daiki would grind down on him, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through their moving bodies, lighting their nerves on fire-

  Yeah, as if that would ever happen.

  Ideas like that always ended up with him alone in his bedroom, his own hand working on his dick while the fingers of the other probed at his entrance. Not exactly a fairy tale ending, huh?

  “Hey, Aomine!” Kiyoshi shouted once he saw him walking down the street towards the studio. “Here!” Daiki didn’t think he could ever miss something as huge as a fucking tour bus, but he waved at the bassist anyway. At least someone was in a good mood.

  People were loading instruments into the trailer. He caught a glimpse of Moriyama and the other crew guys carrying parts of the drum set and some microphone stands, but his attention was quickly stolen by the redhead who flung himself out of the bus’s door.  “Hi, uh, the clothes are already loaded in, but is there anything else you’ll need? Something from the studio? We still have time..”

  “Nope, I think I got it all.” Daiki shrugged. He had the make up case and tooth brush – everything else he could probably live without or buy it on some gas station.

  “Alright, then!” Kagami nodded a bit too forcefully, making the sunglasses resting on top of his head slid down and hit the bridge of his nose. “Shit!” A strand of hair got stuck into one of the screws. The redhead started battling it, snarling and hissing profanities before he somehow managed to pluck the glasses away, sadly, along with some of the hair. “How the fuck can you live with these?!”

  Daiki would bet he didn’t sleep again.

  He’d never been in a tour bus before – it seemed this job will secure him many, many first-time experiences – so all the furniture and kitchenette surprised him. Was that a fridge? Cool. Further into the bus there were six little nooks playing the roles of a bunk beds, but they looked so cramped he would be afraid he’d bang his head on the bed above if he ever tried to sleep there. Thanks God he'll probably get the couch.

  “Make yourself at home.” Nijimura boasted from the only armchair. “You want something to drink? Or food? We’re packed with food since someone obviously thinks we’re going to feed the whole festival!” He shot a sour look in Kagami’s direction.

  “Hey! It’s not my fault you guys can’t eat normal-sized portions!”

  A mop of green hair peeked from one of the bunk beds, followed by thin eyebrows and glasses. “Kagami, I think you have no idea how normal-sized portions actually look. Oh, hello Aomine.”

  “Hi, Midori-”

  “Didn’t hear you complain when I made that red bean soup!” The redhead shouted right behind him, making Daiki jump. Fuck, he almost got a heart-attack!

  After that, he put his things away and tried to blend with one of the couches. The shouting match continued for at least fifteen minutes, back and forth between Kagami and better half of the band, until finally, Kiyoshi stepped in: “It’s okay, kids, stop arguing! Taiga, can you sit down? You remember what happened in Kobe, don’t you? Also, did you tell the pyro guys about the guitar piece?”

  “I did.” There was an _oomph_ sound as the redhead plopped down onto the couch, few inches from where Daiki’s fingers were splayed against the soft cover. He quickly snatched his hand away. “They said it’s okay. They’ll set it off, we’ll play, then toss them into some metal tub under the stage and they’ll extinguish them once the lights go out.”

  “Sounds good,” Kasamatsu hummed, “but once the body is on fire then we do what? Play scales?!” He was already munching on some lunchbox, but Daiki couldn’t care any less because Kagami’s knee just knocked into his. No, not only knocked, it brushed against his own denim-clad leg as if testing the waters and when he didn’t flinch away, it rested there completely. Haha. What the fuck was he going to do?! Don’t panic! He had no proof that the redhead had done it on purpose and even if he had, it probably meant nothing. Still, his heart was beating million miles per hour.

  “Yeah, play scales, bend, whatever, we can at least try it. It’s supposed to be a show after all!”

  Daiki stole a glance at him. The man just lifted his hands, trying to show the other guitarist what exactly he had in mind and good fucking Lord, the things these fingers could do! A part of him – a quickly growing part – wondered how would they feel wrapped around his dick, bringing him to the edge while Kagami murmured sweet nothings into his ear. _You like it, Aomine? What do you want me to do next?_ “Aomine?! Are you even listening?”

  A pair of burning, ruby eyes pinned him to the spot.

  Fuck. “S-sorry, I spaced out-”

  “I saw that. Are you in love or what?”

  That one caught him off-guard. Daiki knew it was just a mock question, teachers and such asked it all the time, but then again, those people hadn’t had Kagami’s ridiculously handsome face and he hadn’t been crushing on them for more than three months. Was he in love? He wasn’t sure. Hopefully not yet.

  “So,” the redhead knocked their knees together again, this time obviously on purpose, “what do you think? Burning guitars – yes or no?”

  “What?” Why the hell was he asking Daiki in the first place? “Err.. Yeah. I mean, it would be cool, but won’t you burn your hands or something?” A guitarist with burned fingers would be pretty much useless, wouldn’t he? As much as he would like to take the other’s hands in his own and gently blew over whatever wounds he might get, he’d hate to see Kagami loose the job just because he wanted to show off.

  His question was obviously being ignored. “See?! It will be cool!” The redhead grinned at the whole bus, sparks of excitement dancing in his crimson, bloodshot eyes. He could really use some sleep. Preferably with his head resting in Daiki’s lap, while he ran his fingers through the unruly, two-toned hair.

  “Alright, alright!” Kasamatsu lifted his hands in defeat. He looked actually tired of Kagami’s child-like excitement. “We will play the solo on burning guitars, are you happy?”

  The knee disappeared. “Yeah, totally.”

  Somewhere from the bunk beds, Midorima sighed: “And this is why they call us maniacs.”

  The rest of the trip was relatively peaceful. All of the guys went to nap at some point, with the only exception being Kagami whose goal was probably to make Daiki as uncomfortable as humanly possible. When Midorima told him to make some space because _he would like to sit, too,_ the redhead just scooted closer to Daiki, so close that their thighs were brushing, and continued to talk about whatever nonsense were they discussing at that point. It was unnerving. Daiki could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, he could smell the faint scent of his aftershave and see the set of semi-closed piercing holes in his ear. He recalled seeing Kagami wearing earrings in many of the live show footages, but now it seemed the man lost interest in such things.

  They were almost there when the driver stepped on the brakes quite violently and sent them all flying. In Daiki’s case, straight into Kagami’s lap.

  “Fuck!”

  Never in his life had he moved so fast. The redhead didn’t even manage to pluck his own elbow out of Midorima’s ribs and Daiki was already making a bee-line to the mini-bathroom.

  Just seconds ago, his hand was on Kagami’s thigh. High, like _really high_ on his thigh.

  Once there were a solid door separating him from the group, he let out a strangled noise. Good Lord, Mary and Jesus, he almost touched Kagami’s dick! It was a miracle that he hadn’t hyperventilated yet or something equally embarrassing and part of him wanted scream and jump while the other wanted to just die-

  There was a knock on the door, followed by Kiyoshi’s: “Shit, Aomine, you okay?”

  “I think he hit his head or something-“

  “Fuck, this is like Kobe all over again!”

  “N-nah, I’m okay. Just gimme a minute.” Daiki wished he had just hit his head. Then, it would be thousand times easier to explain why he spent the rest of the ride holed up in the bathroom.

_Vamos, vamos mi amor, me gusta mucho tu sabor._

  Kagami could put two and two together. Daiki wasn’t exactly sure how many twos he put together on the bus, but when he tried to do his make up before the show, the man was tense as fuck. He didn’t even talk that much, just said _thank you, ‘Mine_ and _it’s alright, let the hair be today._ Of course, none of that tension was visible once he stepped on the stage. He was as intense and mouth-watering as always, scanning the audience with predatory gleam in his eyes. When his guitar caught fire, he didn’t burn his fingers, not even a bit.

_Dame de tu fruta, vamos mi amor._

  It was the only song in Spanish they had. Daiki had no clue what was it about, but he guessed the usual stuff – sex or murder or something along that line. The second verse just ended when Nijimura shouted something at one of the security guys. Daiki couldn’t hear a thing, so once he saw a girl climbing on the stage, he automatically thought she was just some crazy fan. Obviously, he was wrong.

_Más más más por favor, más más más sí sí señor!_

  There was another girl. Kasamatsu let her hug him and motioned for her to follow the first one who was currently kissing Kagami’s cheek.

_Más más más por favor, más más más sí sí señor!_

  When the sixth girl went for a smooch, Daiki had to admit he was plain jealous. This one was really short and Kagami had to bend down for her to even reach his face. By now, she was beet red, almost as red as his hair, but she went on anyway and planted a quick kiss on his cheekbone, leaving a smear of peach lipstick.

_Más más más por favor, más más más sí sí señor!_

  It just wasn’t fair.

  He counted ten. Ten chicks just effortlessly kissed Kagami while he was standing there like an idiot, stewing in his own juices. Daiki was well aware that the redhead didn’t give two shits as long as it wasn’t a guy, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Why couldn’t he just walk to the man and fucking kiss him? That would be like dream come true.

  The whole thing left him feeling oddly cold. He missed the feeling of Kagami’s thigh pressed against his, even if it was only for the sake of making space for Midorima.

  When the eleventh girl’s lips pressed against the guitarist’s cheek, Daiki decided he saw enough of today’s show. Just when he turned to leave, a pair of ruby red eyes glanced his way, questioning. He waved them off.

_Más más más por favor, más más más sí sí señor!_

  Once the concert was over, everyone scattered. Nijimura chased after one of the girls from before while Kiyoshi and Kasamatsu went to see some Jabberwock show. Mayuzumi chose to build a tent outside, claiming he couldn’t stand Midorima’s snoring and Kagami, well, the redhead disappeared as soon as they said their goodbyes to the audience.

  When Daiki returned to the tour bus, the lights were on, but no one was inside. He blamed Mayuzumi – the drummer probably just shook off the costume, grabbed his stuff and went outside without much thinking. So, he was alone. He didn’t mind, actually, it was better this way, at least he didn’t have to pretend like nothing happened. _Silly._ Of course nothing happened! He had no right to feel like this – pissed, sad, betrayed, whatever the stupid emotion was – just because Kagami got kissed by few dumb girls. Still, he felt all that.

  “Más más más por favor, más más más sí sí señor,” he heard himself sing. Shit! So, now the stupid line was stuck in his head, too?! “Sí sí señor..”

  Daiki opened the fridge. Few boxes of Kagami’s food were still left there, untouched. Was he a good cook? He didn’t look the type, but then again, people aren’t always as they seem, so Daiki grabbed one of the boxes, opened the lid and tested it out.

  It was fucking delicious.

  He shouldn’t be making _that_ kind of sounds just because of food, but the fact that he was alone and separated from the rest of the world by the walls of the tour bus gave him certain amount of freedom, so Daiki took another bite and moaned shamelessly. God! He was hundred percent positive that his taste buds just had a fucking orgasm.

  There was a soft _click_ as the bathroom door swung open.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Hu-“

  There he was, Kagami fucking Taiga, dressed in nothing but pair of sweatpants and with droplets of water still sliding down his chest. Daiki almost choked on the piece of salmon. “Sorry, I-I, uh.. didn’t know you were here!“ Seriously, Kagami has been behind the thin bathroom door the whole time? Even while he sang?! That was so fucking embarrassing! “I’mma just take this and go, okay? Haha..”

  “No, no, it’s okay!” The redhead grabbed something front one of the bunk beds, an old grey shirt, and put it on. “I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

  That made Daiki stop mid-step. Kagami wanted to talk to him? Back in the dressing room, he didn’t seem like talking. “About what?”

  Here it was. He could almost hear _I know you like me, but I don’t feel the same, sorry._

  “I, uh..” Now it was the redhead’s turn to be awkward. He looked around, scratched the back of his neck, even fixed the hem of his damn shirt. As unexpected as it was, it made Daiki feel better – at least he wasn’t the only one feeling uncomfortable here. “I’m sorry.”

  Wait, what?

  “About the afternoon. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, it’s just.. Shuuzou’s right, I should give you some space. The next time you think I’m annoying, just say fuck off, or whatever-“

  Daiki had been staring at the redhead in pure disbelief for the whole time, but now he had to be gaping. “What are you talking about?! You’re not annoying!”

  Kagami’s eyes were immediately on him, burning holes into the center of his chest. “So you don’t mind?”

  “What?”

  “Me all over you?!”

  It wasn’t meant to sound that way, Daiki was sure of it, there was no way Kagami would imply something like that, but the mental image was already there and it was turning his knees into jelly. “No,” he breathed out, “I don’t mind. Not in the slightest.”

  “Great!” The redhead grinned. He walked over to where Daiki stood, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from his whole body, close enough for the smell of his soap to fill his nostrils and cloud his mind. Kagami snatched a piece of salmon from the lunchbox. “I saw you at the show. You looked all but happy.”

  “I.. You..” Well, shit. He couldn’t possibly tell the man that he got pissed off at bunch of chicks because they got to kiss him. “You had lipstick all over your face. I was just angry they ruined my work.”

  Another piece of salmon disappeared between his lips. Daiki watched, sort of hypnotized, as the pink tongue swept over them. He wanted to do the same. He wanted it so bad it physically hurt.

  Kagami smirked. “Is that so? I was afraid you felt left out, after all, everyone got a smooch. Even Midorima did.”

  “I did no-“

  But it was too late.

  Before he could say a thing, Kagami was already leaning in, his lips pressing against Daiki’s cheekbone in totally innocent, yet oh so perfect way. He could feel the cold tip of his nose graze his temple, the faint touch lingering only for a heartbeat or two, but for Daiki it felt like ages. He wanted it to last even longer, but the guitarist was already stepping away, a small smile playing on his lips. “Now it’s all fair and square.”

  Daiki was too stunned to actually reply. The only thing that left his mouth was an awkward _eeek_ noise - any other day, he would cuss at himself for being such a weak idiot, but then he was currently too busy trying not to faint, so..

  The sound made Kagami’s smile go even wider.

  “Good night, ‘Mine.”

  “G-good night..”

  "Oh, and you have really nice voice! You'll have to sing for me one day!" With that, the redhead climbed onto one of the bunk beds, his soft laughter still ringing through the bus even minutes after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know: "Vamos, vamos mi amor, me gusta mucho tu sabor" - i think it's "come on, come on my love, I really like your flavour"  
> "Dame de tu fruta, vamos mi amor." - "Give me your fruit, come on my love." ???? then again, I can't speak Spanish so please don't take me that seriously  
> "Más más más por favor, más más más sí sí señor!" - is basically "More, more, more, please, more, more, more, yes, yes, sir!"  
> Yeah, I think that's it.


	7. Mein Herz Brennt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys :) thank you for all the feedback! (it gives me life) There's not much to say there, so.. Hope you'll like the chap :)
> 
> The song is Mein Herz Brennt and yeah, it's once again Rammstein's. It could be translated as "my heart burns" and no, it's not meant in the romantic way.

  The place was just eerie.

  In the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but fields, trees and lots of fresh air – it was a perfect place for a sanatorium, right? He could almost see all the poor tuberculosis patients roaming through the half-crumbled corridors, fingers grazing the flaking paint while late autumn sun shone on their sickly faces. The smell of disinfectant still lingered there even after all those years of abandonment. It was a shame that the cameras couldn’t capture that too.

  It was something about all the columns and the tall ceilings, something that gave the whole place a violently European feeling. In fact, it was because the architect was actually German, hired after the major of Tokyo returned from a week-long vacation in some Berlin sport medicine department in late 1930’s. At least, that was what Midorima told him when Daiki commented on it.

  “Music! Camera! And action!”

  It was relatively warm summer evening, yet the place was so cold he had to put on a jacket. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing – at least the guys won’t be sweating in their costumes that much.

_Nun liebe kinder gebt fein acht, ich bin die stimme aus dem Kissen.._

  “Slower! Chihiro, move your fingers! I want to see the nails!” The director shouted, his melodic voice cutting through the booming playback like a hot knife through butter. Daiki was sure he could see Mayuzumi roll his eyes. Still, the drummer obeyed, sneaked his right arm through the wires separating him from the group of frightened children and very, very deliberately moved the three-inch-long false nails in front of the smallest girl’s face. The kids immediately scurried away from him, faces scrunched in fear.

  “Excellent! We’ll do the whole thing once more, but slower. Playback!”

  Cellos were wailing underneath the usual heavy guitars, giving the song a strange, mournful feeling. If nightmares had a sound, then Daiki was sure this would be it. The Akashi Sei-something director was well aware of it and he chose to play the nightmare tune to its maximum, creating a haunting, dream-like world inside the old sanatorium.

  “Come on, you want to get to them! Get closer to the wires!”

  Once they wrapped up Mayuzumi’s part, the makeshift cellar door burst open and a group of giggling children surrounded the baffled drummer. When Daiki saw the little group for the first time, he thought they’d be frightened – after all, they’ll be probably filming there for the better part of the night and the old building was constantly creaking and groaning – but the kids turned out to be braver than expected. When they weren’t shooting any scenes, they were either ravaging the snacks table or chatting with the guys, there was even a moment when they had to go search for a pair of six-years old who decided to go explore the half-crumbled building on their own.

  When Kasamatsu’s part came, it was almost dark.

  This wasn’t the first time the guys worked with this Akashi director. He was actually responsible for the better third of their videos, so one would guess the shooting would go rather smoothly. Well, it didn’t.

  “Just sit down on the rim and play.”

  “That’s dumb!” Claimed Kagami _loudly_. So loudly it made Daiki drop the masquerade mask he was currently trying to fix. Damn. Sorry Midorima.

  The redhead continued protesting, but as expected, the director made nothing of him. “Well, I think it’s highly aesthetic.”

  The two of them were standing over an old metal bathtub, arguing, while the rest of the crew pretended not to hear. Heh, Daiki doubted anyone could ever miss Kagami’s angry roar. The sound could probably wake up the dead, no shit, and that was a mighty treacherous idea in place like this. The place where people with tuberculosis spent their last days must be infested by ghosts, right? He shuddered at the thought.

  “Seriously?!” Not that something like the possibility of a ghost attack could ever stop the redhead from shouting. “I can’t even play a fucking cello!”

  “It’s like a violin, only a bit bigger,” the director offered with a small, hopeful smile. I was a vain hope.

  The sound that Kagami made next could be only described as hysterical - “I can’t play violin either!” – and his fingers found a way into his two-toned hair, quickly ruining good fifteen minutes of Daiki’s work. The red hair was now sticking in every direction possible. Great.

  “Damn, just sit the hell down and pretend to play! Where is the make up guy?! Can someone fix this?”

  Okay, Daiki put the black mask onto the nearest flat surface. It seemed he’ll never be done with the thing anyway. “Running!” Once he found the hairspray bottle, he walked over to where Kagami sat on the bathtub rim, fingertips idly drumming against the rusty metal. His nails lacked the black polish tonight. Daiki sort of missed it.

  “How many times have I told you not to touch the hair?” Four times, exactly, but not that he minded, at least he had an excuse to touch the other man.

  The redhead looked up at him and sighed. “Sorry.” He seemed genuinely down about it. Shit, Daiki didn’t want to upset him, damn! “No, no, don’t apologize,” he rushed out, fingers quickly working to fix the damage done to the hairstyle. Sure, he could use the comb. The fact that he didn’t had nothing to do with him internally fawning over the softness of Kagami’s hair. Not at all. He brushed one of the strands behind his ear, fingertips grazing the earlobe oh so lightly. The redhead seemed to lean into the caress, but that could also be Daiki’s wild imagination playing tricks on him.

  “It’s okay, you’re supposed to look like a nightmare, anyway.”

  Wait, what?

  It wasn’t supposed to sound that way! “Oh shit! Sorry!”

  Kagami mock-gaped at him. “So you say I look like a nightmare, huh? I’ll show you a nightmare!”

  “N-no, that’s not what I meant,“ Daiki rambled, but the most wicked of grins was already spreading on the guitarist’s face and fuck, he didn’t like that look at all. Or he did. Yeah, it did weird things to his nether regions.

  “Too late. I bet you’re ticklish as fuck-”

  Who knows what would happen next if it weren’t for the director yelling: “Kagami, we have to start filming! Forget the cello and come here, I have another idea.”

_Ich hab euch etwas mitgebracht, hab es aus meiner Brust gerissen.._

  He hadn’t seen much of Kagami after that. Daiki spent most of the night fixing someone’s make up or fussing over the costumes. There was just too many people on the set. Clothes got ripped, sleepy people rubbed their kohl-framed eyes, the ones who leaned against the walls had their backs covered in paint. It was one hell of a night and they were nowhere near done. Oh, and he hadn’t fixed Midorima’s mask yet.

  “You better do it soon. He’s supposed to slow-dance with this lady and I think it’d be better if he could cover his face,” noted the bassist. He then looked up, probably scanning the missing bits of ceiling above their heads and let Daiki smear bits of burgundy powder under his chocolate eyes.

  “Why? He’s not going to make faces on her, is he?”

  “No, but I bet he’ll be blushing like crazy.” Okay, Daiki had to admit that blushing wouldn’t go well with the evil-genius-psycho persona Midorima was trying so hard to portray.

  He was just finishing Kiyoshi’s look, index finger tapping lightly on the soft bottom lip when his favorite redhead showed up. “Hi, guys,” he smiled, although the rest of his face basically screamed _nervous_. It was weird. Also, his eyeliner was smudging and Daiki made a mental note to fix it before the man left again.

  “Hi yourself. What have you brought us?” Kiyoshi grinned against his finger. When he realized it, he mumbled a quick _sorry_ , but it was too late – the dark lipstick was already smeared on his front teeth.

  Kagami frowned a bit at that. “Ugh, nothing. Are you done? I need Aomine upstairs.”

  “Huh? I’ll be there in a minute, okay?”

  Upstairs meant one of the rooms on the second floor, the one where they decided to film Kagami’s cello-playing part. They chose it because the glass panes in its tall windows were still intact which was pretty rare since majority of windows here missed the glass, well, some of them actually missed the whole frame. Ten minutes later, Daiki was climbing the stairs with flashlight in one hand and make up kit in the other, curious what happened that his presence was so badly needed.

  Had he known what was awaiting him up there, he would throw it all away and run, seriously.

  “Hello, Daiki! It is Daiki, isn’t it?” The director smiled at him as soon as he stuck his nose into the half-broken door. Truth to be told, Daiki didn’t like that smile a single bit.

  “Err.. what do you need?” He asked. Everything seemed to be alright – the scene set was intact, Kagami’s face was as perfect as always, his costume seemed intact, hell, even his hair was alright – so he had no reason to be there in the first place. “You know, I have to get Midorima ready, so if you don’t need anything, I’ll just go ba-“

  “Would you sit down next to Kagami? Please. And take off the glasses.” The director pointed at the bathtub. Daiki got none of it, but he shrugged and did as he was told. The redhead moved a little to make more space for him, but their knees brushed anyway.

  Somehow, he had the feeling that they didn’t want him to powder anyone’s nose. “So what do you need?” He frowned at the guitarist. He’d rather try his chances against him than the director to be sincere. “So?”

  Kagami’s face did a bit of acrobatics then. Daiki watched him squirm for a while, even bite on his bottom lip before he started rambling: “You know, Akashi thinks you’d look good in the video. With me. Well, if you’d like to, of course, I mean, it’s not in your contract so you don’t have to do a thing, but it would kinda save our asses here and we’d pay you, so, I guess..”

  He felt his jaw hit the fucking floor.

  “You’re shitting me, right?”

  They ought to be pulling his sock because there was no fucking way he could play a role in a fucking music video. No fucking way. And what was that _with me_ part?

  Kagami shook his head. “Sorry, it was a stupid idea, we’ll just call Reo or something-”

  “It would be only a minute, really, you would just sit in the tub and look scared.” The smaller redhead had been staring at them for a while, his heterochromatic eyes searching for something. Whatever it was, he must’ve found it. “Kagami here would kneel next to the tub and talk to you, then, when the _mein herz brennt_ part comes, he’d” – the man made a gesture as if he were strangling someone – “plunge you underwater. You’ll fight him for a while, then drown and we’re done.” When the guitarist opened his mouth to protest, he added: “Or he can play cello.”

  Daiki wasn’t sure what possessed him. Maybe it was the weird atmosphere rubbing off on him or perhaps he inhaled too much hairspray or maybe both, he didn’t know. Whatever. He nodded. “Uh.. Okay.”

  “Nevermind, I’ll try the cello- Wait, you’ll really do it?” Kagami’s split eyebrows joined his hairline. “Cool! Thank you, ‘Mine!” He beamed.

  The lengths he’d go for that smile.

  “Just don’t drown me for real.”

  He was sure Kagami was going to say something witty – he could tell by the way the corners of his mouth twitched – but the director was faster. “Excellent. Now go strip and we’ll fill the tub! I believe we’ll manage to do it in one take..”

  _Sie kommen zu euch in der Nacht, Dämonen, Geister, schwarze Feen.._

  Daiki had never been much self-conscious when it came to his body. You could say he was more on the opposite end of the scale, really, but who could blame him? He had eyes, for fuck’s sake! He knew he looked good. Still, once he sat there in front of the whole crew, in nothing but underwear and with the lukewarm water reaching hardly to his nipples, he didn’t feel so confident anymore. No, scratch that, he felt downward stupid. He was actually glad he couldn’t see their faces.

  “So, white is it.” Kagami smirked. He was slumped next to the bathtub, fully clothed and with his chin resting on the cold metal just few inches from Daiki’s shoulder. “I knew it.”

  “Huh? What are you talking about?” Daiki followed the burning red gaze down his own tanned torso until it hit him. “Oh, fuck!” Kagami was commenting on his underwear, seriously?! Okay, he was going to nosebleed.

  The redhead didn’t seem to mind. If something, then he found Daiki’s discomfort amusing. “Stop blushing, you’re supposed to be scared. Besides, you saw me in underwear like thousand times, it’s no big deal.” Yeah, but that was different since he was measuring him for costumes or at least pretending to measure while salivating-

  “Alright, you two, calm down! We’ll go through it one last time,” the director commanded from the corner of the room. “Kagami, you have to be frightening and I mean haunting kind of frightening, not perverted! Try to creep around the tub. I want to see you say the lyrics. When you hold him underwater, please do it lightly, we don’t want anyone harmed here. Everything clear?”

  “Yeah.” The redhead got up only to kneel again, next to Daiki’s knees. “From here?”

  “Yes, that will do. Daiki, you have to watch him. Eyes open wide, understand? When he grabs your shoulders, take a deep breath. He’ll push you down, fight him. He’s not going to hold you for real, so don’t worry. If anything happens just sit up. Can you do it?”

  “Yeah, yeah I can,” he nodded, even though the whole drowning thing made his insides clench. He guessed he just trusted Kagami enough.

  “Alright, music please! Lights!”

  Suddenly, the room basked in a soft orange glow, kinda like a candlelight. It danced on the water, made Daiki’s wet skin glisten and brought out just the right amount of red in Kagami’s eyes to make his breath hitch.

  “Camera!”

  Fuck, why was he doing this again?!

  “Action!”

  After that, it all happened way too quickly. The redhead began singing along with the playback - softly, more for the show than for the sound itself - and his voice alone was enough to make Daiki’s heart beat twice as fast. Shit, shouldn’t he be doing something?! Well, something different than staring at the other man.

_Sie warten bis der Mond erwacht, und drücken sie in meine kalten Venen.._

  Kagami’s fingers were walking on the tub’s rim. The gesture might seem childish, but there was nothing childish about the look in his eyes. This was the face he saw on the first concert, the I-own-you-all attitude that made him crave all the unsettling, crude things. Something snapped and Daiki was sliding away from the redhead, but it was too late, the fingers were already walking up his arm.

  The director should be happy – he wouldn’t pry his eyes away from the man, even if he could.

  _“Nun liebe Kinder gebt fein acht, ich bin die Stimme aus dem Kissen,_ ” Kagami’s voice rose a bit higher. He was now kneeling behind Daiki’s back, both hands sliding up his bare arms until they clasped around his shoulders. Shit, there was nothing fake about that grip. _“Ich singe bis der Tag erwacht._ “ The director was shouting something, but Daiki didn’t hear. All he really cared for was Kagami’s lips grazing his ear. This wasn’t in the script, was it? _“Ein heller Schein am Firmament-“_

  Wait, he forgot to take a breath!

_“Mein herz brennt!”_

  The moment the water closed above him, he panicked. There wasn't much Daiki remembered from that part of his one-time acting career – somehow, he managed to bruise the redhead’s forearms and splash the water halfway through the room, but how, that was beyond him – so the next thing he knew was when Kagami hauled him upwards and he started coughing water.

  “Shit, ‘Mine, are you alright? Breathe! I’m so fucking sorry!” That was the moment Kagami started apologizing. The whole thing must’ve been troubling him pretty bad since he didn’t stop even hours later.

  Somewhere on the side, the director shouted: “Great! Thank you both, that was perfect.”

  It was almost dawn. The whole shooting was successfully wrapped up, Daiki was once again dry and curled up under his wool blanket on the tiny couch in the costume trailer – the warm monstrosity became his ultimate sleeping gear –  when the redhead peeked through the door. “Are you awake?” Had he ever heard about knocking?

  “Yeah,” Daiki yawned, “not for long though. What do you need?” He was in no state for a chat, really. The night had been too long and his eyelids were threatening to close at any moment. The redhead didn’t care. He slipped into the trailer anyway. “I’m really sorry about the scene. Next time, I’ll just play cello or tambourine or whatever they choose, I promise.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t sweat it,” Daiki hummed. He made a space for Kagami to sit down, but the couch was small and they were both stupidly tall so there was not much he could do. “You know I’ll steal your spotlight, right?”

  The redhead chuckled at that. “Sure, everyone’s gonna be like _fuck the song, tell us who’s the hot dude in the tub_. You’ll be more famous than us. We’ll have to fire you.” He patted the blanket where he suspected Daiki’s knee.

  “Na~ah, you’d miss me.” Had he been more awake, Daiki would probably mock-protest some more, but he was really drowsy and Kagami’s hand was caressing his calf, up and down and up again, and the repetitive motion made him relax even more. Eventually, his eyes really slid shut.

  “Yeah, I’d miss you.”

  So, he was already dreaming. Alright then, good, dreams about Kagami had been his favorite. “Good night, Taiga,” he smiled.

  “Huh? Already? Okay.” The warmth pressed against his legs was gone. There was a moment of silence before the low voice whispered _good night, Daiki_ and _oh my fucking God, I’m such a creep_.

  Something soft and warm brushed against his cheek, but he was too gone to wonder what exactly it was.

  “Good night.”

  The last thing he knew was the doors clicking shut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not important for the story in any way but I think there are these parts used (again, I did my best to translate):  
> Nun liebe Kinder gebt fein acht, ich bin die Stimme aus dem Kissen - Now, dear children, pay attention, I am the voice from the pillow  
> Ich hab euch etwas mitgebracht, hab es aus meiner Brust gerissen - I have brought you something, have ripped it from my chest  
> Sie kommen zu euch in der Nacht, Dämonen, Geister, schwarze Feen - They come to you in the night, demons, ghosts, black fairies
> 
> What Kagami sings is the refrain and it could be translated as this: "Now, dear children, pay attention, I am the voice from the pillow. I sing until the day awakes, a bright light on the heavens.. my heart burns."


	8. Helden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :D So, there are two songs mentioned in this chap - first one is Rammstein's Du Hast and I think that everyone who ever listened to the band knows that one. I kinda wanted to give it its own chapter but I failed so.. *shrugs*  
> The second is Apocalyptica's Helden. They recorded it with Till Lindemann and the melody is so fucking beautiful I just can't, sorry (their version is a cover of Bowie's Heroes). The little line that repeats all the time "Dann sind wir Helden, nur diesen Tag" actually means "We could be Heroes, just for one day."
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll like the chapter :) bye

  When Daiki quit the college, his parents took it in stride. They weren’t exactly on cloud nine, but they respected his decision and made no drama of it. That was good. When he told them he started working for the band, they were a bit concerned because of their reputation, but Daiki assured them everyone was really nice and no, no one tried to sacrifice him to Satan, yet. So far, so good.

  “No, mom, I wasn’t butt-naked! It’s just supposed to look that way!”

  Of course, once his parents saw their only child being drowned – “It was on the TV! Your dad noticed first, I said no, that can’t be our Dai-chan, but it was you! Why didn’t you tell us?! Are they treating you right?” – they freaked out. The guys almost laughed their asses off when he told them.

  They were packing their stuff after some Kerrang photoshoot when Kagami got the brilliant idea: “We should cast you the next time too, you know, to make Mama Aomine happy.” Daiki tried to whack him with the make up suitcase, but the redhead dodged. Damn it. “Shut up! My grandmother saw it!” His grandmother, his friends, even his fucking landlord! Now don’t take him wrong, Daiki didn’t mind the attention. He actually basked in it, posted some new selfies and read through all the comments about his good looks. It was the bolder ones that made him so uncomfortable.

  “C’mon, it’s not that bad. What’s the worst thing that might happen, huh? You’ll have more Instagram followers.”

  Seriously? “Some weirdo asked me to bathe with them!”

  Thanks God, Kagami stopped teasing him after that. He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again, but before he could say anything coherent, Nijimura beat him to it. “Block them.” The frontman materialized out of thin air, one of his palms clasped around the redhead’s biceps, fingers digging into the firm muscle. It looked kind of painful. “If they annoy you, just block them.”

  “Uh.. okay.”

   It was a good advice and Daiki actually acted on it the next time someone wrote something insulting. Eventually, the interest in his person waned. Life went back to its semi-normal tracks – he spent his days fixing burned stage outfits, sketching new looks and daydreaming about his favourite redhead. When the night came, he climbed into his cold empty bed and jerked off with headphones jammed in his ears. Sad, wasn’t it?

  Everything would be easier if Kagami weren’t so damn cool. Yeah, the whole thing was his fault, anyway. The man would go on-stage and be all menacing, growling terrible things in a way that made Daiki’s insides tremble and then, just like that, the very same man would fall into his make up chair, happy, sleepy as hell and he’d tell call him that stupid ‘Mine nickname while Daiki wiped away the lines from his glowing face.

  It was pointless.

  Once the festival season was over, the band took a break. It was only logical, really. They spent the whole summer working, so they deserved a vacation, too. After that, Daiki hadn’t heard from them for more than a month so he picked up few other jobs, mostly one-time actions like fashion photoshoots or weddings. He’d lie if he said that he didn’t miss Kagami's presence because damn, he missed the man so fucking much. The easy smile and heated, fiery glances still haunted his dreams, even after one month became two and trees started shedding their leaves.

  Somewhere along the way, on one of the weddings, he met Kosuke. He was the bride’s brother, awfully loud, but also weirdly endearing, with broad shoulders and so many disgusting turtlenecks it was almost cute. The guy wouldn’t recognize a guitar even if you hit him in the face with it, but Daiki liked him enough to ignore that. They were just sitting in some tiny-ass hipster café, it was their third or fourth date, when he heard it.

_Du. Du hast. Du hast mich._

  His phone was ringing.

  The sound was so unfit for a place like this that not only Kosuke, but half of the cafe was now openly staring at him while he tried to find the ringing smartphone. Shit, this was embarrassing.

_Du. Du hast. Du hast mich.  
_

  It was pretty much their only song he could really sing. He remembered Kagami teaching him the proper pronunciation – they were drunk at one of the afterparties and Daiki wanted to kiss him senseless..

  _Du hast mich gefragt, du hast mich gefragt, und ich hab nichts gesagt-_

  It was an unknown number.

  “Hello? Aomine speaking.”

  It was like a lightning from a clear sky.

  “Hey, ‘Mine! What took you so long? I thought Shuuzou gave me wrong number!”

  He wasn’t sure what was happening to his face, but it must’ve been something wild, at least judged by Kosuke’s reaction. “No, I mean yes, hey, hello! How are you?”

  “Now better,” laughed the redhead at the other end of the line, “what about you? Are you working?”

  Daiki glanced at the blonde sitting across from him. “Sorry, I, uh, take this out. It’s work,” he hissed. It was only a half-lie, right? Once he was standing outside on the busy street, phone glued to hand, he could feel the widest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “No, I’m not working. What’s up? Are you guys back from the break?”

  “Yeah, mostly. Midorima is still holed up somewhere, but we’ll dig him out, whatever. That’s not why I’m calling.” He sounded so relaxed, damn, Daiki could almost see him lounging on some sofa, long legs casually resting on the coffee table. It was a very, very inviting image.

  “Huh, why then?" And more importantly, how could this man make his chest clench in _that_ way just via fucking phone call? That wasn’t fair. People passed by, some of them already pulled out their umbrellas even though the rain was still hardly a drizzle, but he still stood there, an idiot with thousand-megawatt smile and no jacket on.

  The line cracked a little. “I, ugh.. I wanted to ask you if you’re free on Thursday. So, are you?”

  “Yeah! Sure, I am!” He wasn’t, but who cares?

  “Cool! Would you help me out? I’m recording something and they want to shoot one part of the video right in the studio, so.. you know,” the redhead scoffed, “you think you could come and make me presentable?”

  “Err..” Wait a moment, Daiki didn’t understand. Kagami was recording alone? Why? At first, he wanted to pry, but the line cracked again and he didn’t want to get disconnected mid-call, so he hurried out: “Sure, I’ll be there. When and where?” He could pry later.

  “Let’s say at ten a.m.? I’ll text you the address.”

  "Alright." He could basically feel Kosuke’s hazel eyes burning holes into his back. The man was probably mentally cursing him, calling him a date-ruining asshole or whatever. Well, he was pretty much right. Daiki wasn’t any good at this whole dating game in the first place and now when he had Kagami talking to him with that enchanting voice of his, he found out that he didn’t even want to go back to the other man.

  Heh, he was such a loser.

  “Hey, ‘Mine?”

  Great, the stupid nickname was back. “Yeah?”

  There was a small chuckle, followed by soft, almost inaudible: “I missed you.”

  One line. One fucking line was all it took for his regrets to fly out of the imaginary window, followed by his sanity and – if Kagami as much as hinted - even his underwear.

  Needless to say, there was no lunch date on Thursday.

  _Du, könntest du schwimmen, wie Delphine, Delphine es tun.._

  The studio belonged to some indie record label. Daiki had never heard of it, but he knew next to nothing about these things, so no harm done. There was a small reception with a tattooed short-haired girl sitting behind the desk. He tried to ask her for the directions, but she refused to let him in until some long-haired dude popped up from nowhere and escorted him to one of the recording rooms. He'd never been in real-deal recording studio. At first, he wasn’t sure where to look at because there were so many things – computers, controls, chairs, shit, there were so many people – but then he caught a glimpse of two-toned red hair and it was decided.

  “Uh.. Hi.”

  Kagami was just stuffing his face with some pre-made bento. His hair was a bit shorter and he wore the black stud earrings again, but everything else was the same – the burning crimson eyes, the stupid split eyebrows, even the chirping nail polish – and Daiki felt just as enamoured as the first time, if not even more. “Hey!” The redhead put the food away immediately. He jumped up from his seat, strode towards Daiki who might or might not stopped breathing meantime because Kagami looked so fucking perfect and he was hugging him again, quickly, with lots of pats on the back and blinding smiles.

  “You look fucking good,” grinned the guitarist. Happy little wrinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. Daiki wanted to kiss him so damn bad it physically hurt. How the fuck was that even possible? Oh, whatever. He forced on a small smile. “You too.” Shit. It was harder than expected. “So, err.. you have anything special in mind?”

  “Nah. C’mon, sit down. First, ou have to listen to this.”

  At first, he thought Kagami was making fun of him. It was a cello song! He tried to take the headphones off, but Kagami’s hands clasped over his own and he was nodding, mouthing _go on_ while his warmth seeped into Daiki’s own, cold fingers.

  The melody started out kind of bittersweet. He couldn’t really explain why, but it reminded him of sea before sunrise. You know, steel grey skies, salt and a small ship with two people aboard, huddled together in some hammock, alone in the vast ocean, yet not lonely. Never lonely. About a minute into the song, a guitar joined and yeah, he could definitely hear Kagami’s sound in that. As the song progressed, he could see the clouds disappearing. First rays of sun shone on the couple’s faces and soft breeze toyed with the sails.

  “You like it, don’t you?” The redhead beamed. He could as well ask if the grass were green.

  “It’s beautiful,” he admitted, “but, uh.. wouldn’t it be better with vocals? No offense, I love it, just-” Shit, no, he didn’t mean to offend Kagami. They just met again, the melody was beautiful, almost as beautiful as the man and what the hell was wrong with him?! Fuck, he wanted to disappear.

  Thanks God, the redhead looked all but offended. “Yeah, that’s why we're here today. I’ll record the vocals and these guys will do some shots for the video, so I have to look at least half-human.”

  “Wait. You’ll sing it?”

  “Yup. All me.”

  He looked so happy. Once again, Daiki had to bite his cheek because he might make some really embarrassing noises.

_Ich, ich bin dann König, und du, du Königin.._

  One of the camera guys – the long-haired dude that saved him from the receptionist – told him that the whole clip was going to be black and white. It didn’t really matter, though. Daiki didn’t plan on using any colors. See, Kagami was glowing so much he hardly needed any make up at all and he saw no meaning in slanting useless amounts of kohl on his face.

  “Werden wir Helden, für einen Tag.”

  He’d never heard the man sing like that.

  Well, he didn’t hear that much at first, but one of the computer guys gave him a pair of headphones _since he was_ _Kagami’s friend_ and wow, the voice, the sound, it was.. No, Daiki couldn’t describe it. All he knew was that he’d gladly listen to it for the rest of his life.

  “Dann sind wir Helden, für einen Tag.”

  The image of the couple on the sea was back, much more vivid, full of lazy kisses and carefree laughter. Pure joy gained from each other’s company. He was probably being stupid when he thought about such things just because of a song.

_Dann sind wir Helden.._

  Once Kagami hit the high notes, the most delicious kind of shiver ran down his spine.

  He really was a lost cause.

_..nur diesen Tag._

  “How was it?” The redhead pried as soon as he got out of the recording room. The technicians immediately started bombarding him with praises and assurances, but the crimson eyes went on, searched through the crowd until they finally met Daiki’s. _How was it?_ One split eyebrow rose, questioning.

  He couldn’t say a thing. It’s not as if he were rendered speechless, no, his brain just refused to come up with anything that wasn’t _I love you, marry me_ or _fuck me into the next year_. Perfect. Eventually, he managed to croak something along _it was awesome, man,_ but that was a brutal understatement and he wanted to slap himself afterwards.

  The cameraman did few additional shots of the whole crew working – Daiki tried to be as invisible as humanly possible, but they eventually got him to at least wave at the camera – before they called it quits. They already had some footage of the cello group and Kagami playing the guitar, so there was no need for any extra. Once he had all his stuff packed and the coat thrown over his shoulders, he assumed he was pretty much ready to go. The whole thing left him stupidly emotional. He should probably call Kosuke, yeah, that was a good idea. Or he could slump down on his kitchen floor, drink and be dramatic. He’ll decide on the train.

  “It was good to see you again,” he waved at the redhead, “so, uh.. call me when you guys are back? I need to know if you can still fit in the costumes.” They will also need something warmer for the winter months. Namely Kiyoshi, his lack of sleeves could become a pain in the ass.

  Kagami was just tapping something into his phone, but as soon as he heard him, he tossed the device into the guitar case. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah, I want to catch the train and you’re done filming, so,” Daiki shrugged, “guess I’ll go.”

  “Wait a minute!”

  Huh? Why? Okay, calm down heart, it will probably be something meaningless, there was no reason to get all excited. Still, he could feel his stomach tightening.

  Kagami was already moving, jacket in one hand, the case in the other. “Where do you live? I’ll give you a lift.”

  “You can drive?” Now that was a new one.

  The guitarist made a face at him. “Of course I can drive, why shouldn’t I?”

  It never really occurred to Daiki, with all the tour bus rides and trailers, that the redhead might actually have a licence. “You don’t seem the type.”

  “Really? I’d like to know how the hell do you see me then.”

   Was that a trick question? He wasn’t sure. He squinted at the other man, but found no trace of malice, so he just passed it. Turns out Kagami really knew how to drive. He was also surprisingly calm. His fingers were drumming against the steering wheel half of the time, but that was about all – Daiki would probably swear and flash middle fingers at majority of the drivers by this point – yet as they got closer to his neighborhood, he realized it wasn’t any inner peace that was behind the redhead’s stillness. Nope. He was just tense as fuck.

  “So, this is it?” One black nail pointed at his apartment building.

  “Yeah, this is it.”

  It was awkward. The engine was still running, its low grumble resonated through his frame and Daiki found it kinda helpful, really, at least he could blame his shaking hands on the vibrations. Why was he still sitting here, anyway? Of course, it was comfortable and warm and he just loved to be in Kagami’s company again after such a long time, but-

  “Uh.. ‘Mine?”

  Right, he should get out. “Sorry to bother and thanks for the ride-”

  “No, wait!” Three fingers grazing his arm were all it took for him to fall back into the passenger seat. Kagami was watching him, face scrunched in a way Daiki had never seen before. “You know..”

  No, he didn’t.

  “The few weeks.. I really missed you.” Don’t fucking go there. As if it weren’t hard enough to act like he wasn’t affected by the redhead at all, but no, the man just had to go and tell him such things, fucking great! It was just too much, sorry. He looked at the man, really looked at him, at the twitching muscles of his jaw and wandering crimson eyes that stared right back at him, unflinching and fuck, he didn’t know what to do. Kagami’s fingers slid down his sleeve, he could feel the seat dip where the man braced himself, dip deeper as he leaned in until the feet-long distance between them became inches and inches became almost nothing, until Kagami’s nose bumped against his own-

  And he froze.

  Kagami’s lips just brushed the corner of his mouth and he was just sitting here like the huge idiot he was, torn somewhere between fainting and hyperventilating, with heart beating against his rib cage so wildly he’ll probably have bruises tomorrow. Of course the other noticed. He was pulling back in no time.

  “Fuck, I’m so fucking sorry! I didn’t even ask you if you’re into guys, what the fuck is wrong with me, sorry-“

  Wait. This all had to sink in first.

  Kagami just tried to kiss him. On the mouth. Daiki considered pinching himself just to make sure he wasn’t making shit up, but the redhead was still rambling, wow, now _he_ looked like he was ready to hyperventilate.

  Well, fuck it.

  “Shut up, Taiga.”

  Kissing in the car was awkward. They didn’t even really kiss at first, Daiki just planted a clumsy smooch on the guitarist’s clean-shaven cheek, then another, less clumsy on the corner of his mouth – because he finally found his way around the damn gear shift – and finally, a third one on Kagami’s lips when the redhead caught up. The very next second, his hand was on Daiki’s jaw, pulling him closer, as close as possible with the coat and jacket and fucking gear shift between them, until everything else melted away.

  It was awkward and full of fumbling yet still, it was the most perfect kiss in his life. It didn’t matter they started laughing halfway. After all, they had the whole night to practice.

  _Dann sind wir Helden, nur diesen Tag._

 


	9. Wollt ihr das Bett in Flammen sehen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :D so, the chapter title is - surprisingly - a name of a Rammstein song, one of my favorites by the way. It literary means "Do you want to see the bed in flames?" Anyway, it's almost three in the morning here so there might be some major fuck ups, but I'll try to fix them today afternoon :) I'm dead :)
> 
> Hope you'll like the chapter :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wollt ihr in Haut und Haaren untergehen?" basically means "do you want to perish in skin and hair?"  
>  "Sex ist ein Schlacht, Liebe ist Krieg." - Sex is a battle, Love is war.

  Cone of pale blue light cut through the smoke-induced darkness. It engulfed the keyboardist, danced on his sequin-covered jumpsuit and immediately made him the center of the crowd’s attention. People cheered, chanted _Shin-chan, Shin-chan._ Good. All eyes on him. As expected, Midorima didn’t disappoint. He put on a show, pretended not to know which keys to play while looking like a weird, broken disco ball and the whole thing could even be comic, only if Daiki didn’t know what was coming next.

  God, his palms were sweating so much! He wiped them into his shirt and watched another reflector aim on Mayuzumi.

  By now, he was seriously tempted to start biting his nails.

  The front half of the stage was still hidden in shadows. Somewhere in there – no, not just somewhere, but on one certain safe spot – stood Kagami, with the stupid high collar secured onto his shoulders, waiting for the thing to go off. Kasamatsu wore the same. It was made of countless red flares, with wires going God knows where and fuck, Daiki wanted to drag him out of there. He told him the stupid thing would blow his head off, but the redhead didn’t listen. “Calm down, the pyrotechnician said it’s totally safe,” he claimed. Daiki doubted it. The only thing the pyro guy really said was that _he might lose his hearing for a moment._ What the fuck?! There’s nothing safe about losing one’s hearing! Who the fuck would even say that?!

  The melody was quickly picking on speed. Here it was, Daiki fucking knew it-

  The first thing he registered was the noise – sharp and deafening, as if someone decided to set the flares off next to his ears instead – and then, the brightest explosion of red.

  He didn’t dare to breathe.

  The whole spectacle was gone in an eyeblink, replaced by the growl of the double guitars.

  Daiki loved it. It was such a malicious sound, with the cadence of a machine gun and ability to knock the leftover air out of his lungs, but he loved it even more because it meant Kagami was alright, he was right over here, surrounded by a cloud of dissipating smoke and with both feet still planted on the very same spot.

_Wollt ihr das Bett in Flammen sehen?_

  The words boomed through the concert hall, followed by a cougar-like roar coming somewhere from the depths of Nijimura’s chest.

  One of the pyrotechnicians jogged to Kagami and pulled the monstrosity off his shoulders. The redhead flashed him a quick, half-insane smile, all teeth and the chokehold on Daiki's throat slowly vanished because _he_ was alright. More than alright, he looked fucking high.

_Wollt ihr in Haut und Haaren untergehen?_

  It was about sex – the song, of course – about an open war on both sides, fueled by mutual hunger. Scratching, biting and drawing blood, racing towards the blissful completion with nails sunk in each other’s flesh. He wondered whether Kagami wrote it. If he did, then Daiki hadn’t experienced that side of him yet. Maybe it was because their relationship was so new or maybe they actually had no reasons to try to strangle each other, he wasn’t sure. Still, part of him wanted to taste that anger. Get wrecked with Kagami’s fingers fisted in his hair, tugging, while the redhead pounded into him from behind. The man had always stirred such ideas in him. Perhaps he really was into all the kinky stu-

  With a loud crash, the lights went out.

  What the hell?!

  After ten seconds of confused applause, Nijimura’s voice pierced through the hall again, almost playful and when he lifted his hands to the audience again, golden sparks flew out of his sleeves.

  It seemed they decided to burn the place down tonight.

_Sex ist ein Schlacht, Liebe ist Krieg._

  As embarrassing as it was, Daiki had always been afraid of all the pyro. He saw the scars littering Kagami’s lower back – _it’s no big deal,_ the man said, _he just stood too close to one of the fireworks_ – just as he saw the ones hidden under Nijimura’s longish hair and the patches of discolored skin decorating Kiyoshi’s calves. Accidents happened. They got burned before and the odds were fucking high that they’ll get burned in the future too, more so with all these crazy flare-collars and columns of fire shooting from the fucking floor. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?

  When they stumbled into the bar three hours later, he had to sit on Kagami’s right because his left ear still couldn’t hear shit. Even half-deaf, the man made nothing of his worries.

  “It’s all controlled,” he shrugged. The ice cubes in his drink clanked against each other when he brought the glass to his lips. Daiki would gladly trade places with the stupid tinted tumbler just to feel the firm, chapped mouth pressed against his own. Yeah, he was greedy like that. “Seriously. What are you afraid of? It’s just few sparks.”

  Few sparks?! Daiki almost spat out his drink. “Well, sorry that I don’t wanna see my man burn alive,” shit, he didn’t want to see any of them burn alive! Not even Mayuzumi and the guy could be mighty annoying.

  Kagami watched him sip on his own alcohol with half-lidded eyes. It wasn’t much visible in the bar’s shitty lighting, but they were bloodshot as fuck.

  “There’re like ten men with extinguishers, you know.”

  Alright. Daiki had to take a deep breath. And one more. And then third, just to be sure he didn’t accidentally punch the redhead in the face. Arguing right now would be meaningless - they were both tired, cranky and one of them actually half-deaf. They should probably call it night. He didn’t feel like having their first argument tonight, not over something as stupid as fireworks.

  Eventually, Daiki waved at the bartender - “I’ll pay!” – but as soon as he lifted it, the hand got snatched away.

  “C’mon.” Calloused fingers curled around his wrist. Before he could say _riff_ , he was being pulled off the bar stool and between Kagami’s open legs. “Don’t be like that.”

  The great thing about afterparties was that between all the flashing lights, handsy fans and hectolitres of alcohol, no one really noticed who made out with who. That’s why he didn’t nag when the other’s hands found their way into his back pockets. Kagami guided him closer, one step at time until his shins knocked into the bar stool, then he looked up at Daiki with that wide, blinding smile. “So, I’m your man now, huh?” He chuckled.

  A gush of hot breath against his jugular was all it took to make his insides tremble.

  Keen to hold onto his sanity, Daiki paid back in kind. He sneaked his fingers into the thick, two-toned hair, letting his blunt nails scrape the sensitive skin on the other’s nape. He loved Kagami’s hair. He could probably spend days just petting him, carding his fingers through the silky tresses, nuzzling into him. The redhead immediately leaned into his touch.

  “Aren’t you?”

  Actually, they never agreed on being boyfriends or anything, it just.. happened? Once they kissed, things moved quickly, well, surprisingly quickly and before he knew, Kagami was fishing his boxers from underneath Daiki’s bed. Since then, he just assumed they were a thing.

  Finally, the poor bartender came to take his fucking money. Daiki would thank him or something, but the redhead chose that exact moment to dig his fingers into his backside and damn, the only thing that came of his mouth was rather undignified squeak. Needless to say, the bartender rushed away pretty quickly.

  Kagami’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Such a virgin.” This time, Daiki really whacked him. On the side of his head. Softly. And then kissed him sorry because he was an enamoured sucker and Kagami’s pout was his ultimate weakness.

  “Alright, alright! Whatever.” The hands on his ass disappeared, but not before giving it one last good-natured squeeze. “Now take your man home. I’m tired as fuck.”

  Daiki watched him down the rest of his drink in one go, weirdly fascinated by the bob of his adam’s apple. The redhead paid his own bill before standing up, but holy shit, Daiki had to grab his arm because Kagami was swaying dangerously, the mixture of weariness and alcohol obviously taking its toll on him. “Thanks,” he muttered, “now, ugh.. go get that case of yours, I’ll call us the cab.”

  Wait, what? “You wanna go with me?” He blinked. They hadn’t done this yet. Not sleepover - Kagami had already spent two or three nights at Daiki’s – it’s just.. this was the first concert after the break and he was visibly tired out of his mind, so Daiki assumed he’d want to just crash down and sleep ‘till God knows when.

  Someone knocked into him. It wasn’t anything bit, but he was already more than tipsy and the small shove made him stumble. This time, Kagami steadied him. “Nah, no, that would be dumb,” he shook his head, “my place is closer.”

  So it was decided.

  Daiki had never been in Kagami’s home before. He didn’t know what to expect, really. Something wild, perhaps? Walls covered in newspaper, with bottles of dried nail polish lying between pieces of crumbled paper and snapped guitar strings? Yeah, something like that. To be honest, he imagined a chaos – post-nuclear-explosion kind of chaos, to be brutally honest – yet Kagami’s apartment was all but that.

  “Wow! It looks pretty normal.”

  He should have kept his mouth shut about it, especially tonight.

  “Why shouldn’t it?” Pair of red eyes pierced right through him. “Seriously, what the hell do you take me for?”

  “Sorry, I, ugh-”

  “Whatever,” the redhead scowled, but _whatever_ didn’t cut it this time, Daiki could tell. When Kagami spoke up the next time, the annoyance was practically dripping from his voice. “Are you hungry? No? Alright, then. Bathroom is that way,” He pointed at one of the many doors, “so just go ahead. I’ll bring you a towel and some toothbrush.”

  “Okay,” Daiki heard himself sigh. This wasn’t how was he envisioning his first night at the other’s place, but alright, there was no way back now. If he just chickened out every time Kagami got a bit cranky, then the whole relationship would be pretty pointless, no?

  The bathroom was pretty much same as the rest of the apartment – clean, modern and definitely expensive as fuck – with a large bathtub and spotless marble tiles covering the walls almost all the way to the ceiling. Daiki ditched the tub. He opted for the shower instead, shook off all the smoke-stinking clothes and put his glasses aside, not really caring about the eyewear by this point. He was already in the shower when Kagami pushed the door open. Daiki couldn’t see him thanks to all the shampoo in his eyes, but he could hear the padding of bare feet against the tiles and once he was out of the shower, a small pile was awaiting him on the cabinet.

  They switched almost wordlessly.

_Sex ist ein Schlacht, Liebe ist Krieg._

  There was a guitar stand in the corner of Kagami’s bedroom. Daiki counted five – four electric guitars, one acoustic – in various colors and shapes. He thought he’d seen the redhead play some of them at the concerts, but it was dark and he wasn’t sure. The red one wasn’t among them. Where was it then?

  Few inches to his left, the redhead sighed. “You know, this is exactly why you don’t date fans. They just.. expect you to act certain way, to be like that all the time. That’s fucking impossible, that shit doesn’t work!” When Daiki started babbling about his first thoughts on Kagami’s place, he didn’t know it would turn into such a drama. Oh boy, was he wrong. “I’m not saying we should quit this or anything..”

  The last sentence made Daiki’s chest clench. He turned to face the redhead, fingers clutching onto the thick white blanket. “Then what the hell are you trying to say?!” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but better harsh than vulnerable, right?

  Kagami sighed. He sat up and Daiki found himself staring at his naked, perfect back. Even when arguing – were they really arguing? He wasn’t sure – he wanted to kiss his way down that back, to run his tongue over the scars there, to circle his arms around the redhead’s waist and apologize for whatever dumb shit he said that made him so upset. How come someone could make him feel all that at once? It was a bit too much for him, actually.

  Another long sigh escaped the redhead’s lips. Eventually, he groaned: “Fuck, I don’t know! But it looks like you're expecting me to bite off bat’s heads or whatever!”

  Too late. The image was eternally etched into the back of his memory. “Man, that’s gross. What nutjob would do that?”

  “Does Ozzy Osbourne ring a bell with you?”

  “Nah, what’s that?”

  “Wha- How even?!” After that, Kagami lost his cool. He sputtered, waved his hands, babbled something about sabbath and yeah, Daiki had enough.

  “Listen,” he sat up too, hand coming to rest on the redhead’s biceps, “I may not know shit about this Ozzy of yours,” here, Kagami opened his mouth to protest, “but,” he shut it moments later, “I wanna know _you_ , inside out. You ain’t messy? That’s good. Do you think I’d want someone who really eats people alive or whatever? That’s stupid. I like you for you.” Daiki had never been any good when it came to voicing his feelings. By this point, he was probably rambling or sounding like an absolute idiot. “Just don’t bite any bat’s head off, that would be gross. And don’t get your own head blown off by any shitty pyro. I’d like to spent some more time with you, so..” Yeah, a total idiot. God, whatever! “Fuck it! It doesn’t make sense anyway!” He plopped back onto the bed, one arm dramatically thrown over his face. One day, he should write a book. It would be called _How to make an idiot of yourself: 101._

  “Ugh, ‘Mine?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You mean it?”

  It was the most stupid question under the sun. “Of course I mean it, dumbass.”

  “I knew it!” Kagami was on him the very next second. He pinched both of Daiki’s cheeks – “Ow! The fuck?!” – then planted a giant smooch right on his sneering mouth. “You’re actually a giant sap!”

  “Ow!” It took him some time to recover from that disgusting assault. His cheeks stung and it didn’t matter how many the redhead kissed them afterwards, Daiki still pouted. “I’m not sap, you are the sap here!”

  “Sure, but unlike someone, I don’t deny it. You know, I write lovesongs.”

  “Yeah, sure,” he snorted, “since when is _you have a pussy, I have a dick, so what’s the problem, let’s do it quick_ considered a lovesong?”

  “Shut up! I didn’t mean _that_ one!”

  “Ri~ight.”

  “Shut up, ‘Mine, I warn you.”

  They were both tired, so tired that even keeping their eyes open seemed like an inhuman feat. Tired or not, if it involved Kagami then Daiki was always up for a game. “And if I don’t?!”

  The taunt in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, no. “Oh, so you wanna play bratty, hmm?” A slow, wicked smile tugged on the redhead’s lips. It wasn’t a real question. Kagami knew well enough what that tone meant. He sat up again, one palm patting onto the mattress next to his thigh. “Come here.”

  It was hard to keep up the bratty façade with the man looking at him like that. Pure, unwavering confidence. It sparked something in him, a liquid fire pooling in his belly and setting his senses ablaze. Before he knew it, Daiki was already in motion. “So, what now? You gonna spank me?”

  “Nah, I’m gonna do something much, much worse,” Kagami purred, crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. Daiki watched the words form on his lips one by one, weirdly hypnotized, ready to bend over backwards at any time and Kagami knew, of course he knew. It made his smile widen even more.

  “I’ll play you like a fucking guitar.”

  “Wu-“

  Before he had the chance to ask what the fucking hell was that even supposed to mean, Kagami grabbed onto his forearm and pulled. The moment of surprise was inevitably on the redhead’s side, so even though he fought back, soon Daiki found his upper half resting in the other’s lap – on his side, back flush against that muscled chest, it’s scorching heat seeping into him – and there was a palm against his stomach, fingers-

  He howled.

  The fucker was running his fingertips over his tummy while the hand on his arm fucking _tuned_ and Daiki thrashed in that not-so-firm grip because it tickled so. Fucking. Much! Somewhere above him, Kagami was making embarrassing guitar noises, but all the humming and growling and screeching died in Daiki’s hysterical laughter. The idiot didn’t stop tickling him though, not even after the half-hearted homicide threats and _please, plea-aahh-se st-stah-p!_

  “Shhh, stop making such a circus, you’ll wake the neighbors,” the redhead dared to grin. Daiki almost knocked his pretty white teeth out.

  “F-fuck you!”

  “Yeah, first thing in the morning, but now hush, I want to sleep.” Finally, fucking finally, the idiot stopped torturing him. He buried his face into the crook of Daiki’s neck and laughed softly, held him while he wheezed.

  “I like you for you too, idiot.”


End file.
